


Irregular Homecomings

by startabby



Series: Obscure Guardian [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Dumbledore Bashing, F/F, F/M, Gen, Ilvermorny, Internal Monologue, International Relations, M/M, Magical Races, Multi, Obscurial Harry Potter, Other, POV Multiple, Parseltongue, Possession, Quidditch, Triwizard Tournament, Unreliable Narrator, Wizarding Journalism, Wizarding Politics, borrowing from canon, help from Google Translate, mixed-gender Wizarding Schools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby
Summary: After a decade of recovery away, politics and societal pressure combine to return ‘the-boy-who-lived’ to British soil. How will Dumbledore, Voldemort, and British Wizarding society deal with a Harry (and Sirius) who is confident, has strong international allies, and is unwilling to put up with their bullshit?In other words, my Goblet of Fire rewrite within the Obscure Guardian setting.





	1. Quidditch is a Global Phenomenon

**Author's Note:**

> Like the first part of Obscure Guardian, Irregular Homecomings also uses point-of-view (POV) characters. This time, each chapter has a different POV, whose identity will be noted at the beginning of the chapter.  
> Irregular Homecomings begins roughly three years after the previous story, during the summer before Harry’s fourth year of formal schooling.  
> It is safe to assume that most of the events of Harry’s first three years at Hogwarts in canon ran similar here, with adjustments due to Harry’s absence. As I go along, you’ll notice hints of where there were divergences beyond the obvious ones.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the delightful chaos of the Quidditch World Cup Festival, a clue is uncovered and a hunt is reinitialized.  
> POV Character – Sirius Black, aka Padfoot, aka Patrick ‘Pads’ Grim. British (and American) Wizard, Grim animagus, former Prisoner of Azkaban, and Guardian Godparent/adoptive father to Harry Potter.

_The lights, the colours, the sights, the sounds… the smells!_

Padfoot was in heaven. Wandering the encampments surrounding the 1994 Quidditch World Cup (QWC) stadium in Devon was a feast for the senses. Everywhere you looked, there was something new to discover.

Despite being stuck with the weak eyesight of a dog, Padfoot couldn’t keep himself focused. There was just so much to see. People of all ages and skin tones, wild and crazy encampments, and Magical decorations that fluttered and flew, drawing the eye. His keen hearing could pick up snatches of conversation in a multitude of languages, along with live music. There were familiar instruments like guitars and drums as well as sounds that he’d only heard while on foreign excursions with Harry, Newt, and the rest.

 And then, then there were the smells.

As the wind shifted, Padfoot caught whiffs of exotic incense – sandalwood, myrrh – being burnt in distant compounds. Even better were the amazing scents of food from all over the world. From the multitude of varieties of coffee and tea being brewed over the fires, to the tantalizing sizzle of frying meat, the bouquet of deliciousness made Padfoot’s mouth water.

_Oh, Merlin, curry!_ A sudden gust of wind brought a new scent to Padfoot’s nostrils, the aroma triggering a memory. _It smells just like the yellow curry that Dad Potter used to make! Still, mustn’t get too distracted._

After all, he was on guard so that his son didn’t have to be.

_Harry should get to enjoy his first World Cup freely._

Padfoot shook his head, and then trotted back up to where his beloved charge was standing.

The teenage Wizard was standing in front of a compound whose residents looked to be from the Far East. The main structure of the compound was a pavilion of rich golden silk, with brocade panels that depicted landscapes filled with Magical beasts of Asian origin. In front of the pavilion, a large mat had been unrolled to provide a smooth surface.

Out on the mat, a dozen petite Witches, dressed in flowing trousers and jackets of white, were performing a kata of some kind of Asian martial art. Harry was entranced, as he watched the girls’ long dark hair float around them while they moved in perfect unison.

When he realized what Harry was doing, Padfoot supressed a snort. He rolled his eyes toward Remus, who was standing nearby. Naturally, his sandy-haired friend smirked back. They both knew Harry’s type – slim, athletic girls – and these lovely beings were a perfect match to his youthful fantasies.

To be fair, Harry knew better than to treat women as objects, but as a teenage boy, couldn’t help his visceral ‘appreciation’ of the sight.

 

_The entire Gramander Clan – those attending the Cup, anyways – had arrived on site in Devon the previous afternoon. While it had still been light when they first arrived, by the time their compound had been set up the sun had set. Despite the multitude of Magical and Mundane lights that lit up the site, they had limited their explorations that evening to their immediate neighbours. Today, they were going wider._

_This was the first Cup for most of the younger generation, and their first chance to see a truly global Magical festival. Occurring every four years, the QWC final match was one of the International Wizarding Community’s largest celebrations. As such, it brought Wizards and Witches from around the world to a single location, a festival of Magical diversity._

_So, after a hearty breakfast that morning, the Clan had headed out to explore in a single massive group. Over time, of course, the group broke apart, as various Clan members bumped into old and new friends._

_The first to break off had been Percy (_ Percival Graves _) and ‘Zeus (_ Theseus Scamander _). The slowest moving of the group, they spotted a group of old comrades from the Grindelwald War years, including old Oran Nott and Caractacus Burke, comfortably set up in a pavilion only a few campsites away from the Gramander ‘compound’. Naturally, their old peers invited the pair to join them for a rousing round of doctored ‘tea’ and reminiscing._

_Shortly thereafter, Dora (_ Nymphadora Black Tonks _) had dragged Dave and Wayne (_ David and Gawaine Goldstein _) off to meet some of her fellow trainees from the British Auror Academy, her hair cycling through a number of colours as she went. The young adults were no doubt planning to get nicely sloshed before the match. Of course, Wayne was especially curious to meet British Wizards and Witches his own age. He particularly wanted to discuss the ways that MACUSA and the British Ministry handled law enforcement training, and complain about tough instructors. After all, he’d already heard Dora’s take, but he needed confirmation._

_The group was strolling past a set of tents decked out in saturated colours; red, blue, purple, green, gold, when someone called out “Eri!” A tall, well-built black Wizard in robes of black and white waved his arm in greeting. With a shriek, Eris (_ Ramirez nee Scamander _) ran over to the man in her own swirl of bright colours and patterns and leapt into his arms for a massive hug. Apparently he was an old friend from Uagadou. Behind her, her husband Carlos (_ Ramirez _) rolled his eyes before following her. As he did so, he waved the rest of the group off._

_“She’ll be a while,” he remarked with a smile. “There’s no point in everyone standing around and waiting for us.”_

_In much the same way, the older Goldstein brothers, Isaac and Judah, and Ted (_ Tonks _) dropped out of the group when they caught sight of friends or opportunities to network while they strolled._

_Thus, the Clan cluster had dwindled down to just the younger teens – the twins Rolf & Ingrid (_Scamander _), Penny (_ Penelope Wakefield _), Ant (_ Anthony Goldstein _), and Harry & Padfoot – with Remus and the twins’ father Wilhelm (_Scamander nee Schneider _) trailing along behind them, keeping a weather eye out. When Padfoot twisted his ear back towards the pair, he could catch snatches of their discussion._

_“Thank Merlin for Artemis and her allies,” Remus was saying. “I shudder to think what the Wizengamut would have passed after Greyback’s attacks if they hadn’t been there to counteract the fear-mongers.”_

_“Indeed,” Wilhelm agreed. “My homeland is far too familiar with the consequence of such tactics, but you Brits have not yet learned that lesson.”_

_“Still, it makes me glad that Tina and Isaac were able to help me to get dual citizenship in America.”_

 

Padfoot was sitting beside Harry, teasing his son through their mental link, when the wind’s direction changed. With the fresh breeze came an oddly familiar scent. There was something about it, something significant. But it wasn’t something he’d smelled recently. What was it?

The smell put his hackles up, and so he gave a low growl as he raised his nose in the air in attempt to start a trace.

“Pads?” The sound of his almost subsonic growl had been caught by his observant son.

But before Padfoot could respond, his damaged memory finally kicked in. He managed to identify the scent! With a howl, Padfoot took off running.

Harry and the rest ran after him, stopping only when they collided with another collection of teenagers who were out exploring the festival.

Padfoot had bowled over the tallest, a gangly boy with long arms and legs, bright orange-red hair, and plenty of freckles.

‘ _Where is it, where is it…’_ he growled as he rooted around in the boy’s t-shirt, trying to locate the source of the scent.

_‘Paddy!’_ Harry called mentally as he pushed himself off the rough ground. ‘ _Paddy, calm down. What is it?’_

Padfoot’s thoughts were running in circles, _danger – traitor,_ caught without being able to break loose. Hearing this through the bond, Harry projected a sharp mental ‘shock’ at Padfoot, shaking him out of the trance.

_‘Paddy.’_

_‘Sorry pup, got lost there for a sec.’_

Easing down, Padfoot backed off the boy he had been molesting, huffing and sneezing to rid himself of the _bad_ scent.

_‘He smells of the traitor – the rat.’_ He gave another sniff. ‘ _They all do, but he’s the strongest.’_

_‘Okay. Well, let me see what I can find out.’_

Both of them could feel the other’s _assent_ through the bond before they relaxed the connection.

Besides the redheaded boy, who had already climbed to his feet and pulled out his wand, their new companions were four teens. There was a short, curvy girl with bushy brown hair who smelled of books and a solid, fair-skinned boy with pin straight ashy brown hair whose magic carried with it a sense of earth and growing things. To one side stood a pale, nearly albino girl with white blonde hair and large light blue eyes whose features reminded Pads of the Malfoys. Finally, there was another redhead, this one a slim girl whose magic felt like the sharp tang of ozone right before a lightning strike. It was the red haired girl whom Harry had collided with when the two groups came in contact.

“Excuse me,” Harry said politely, offering a hand to help her to her feet. “Padfoot can get a bit overexcited sometimes. I’m Harry, by the way, Harry Grim.”

“Ginny… Weasley,” the girl responded, flushing at his gallantry and the attention from a handsome older boy. “And that’s my brother Ron that your dog jumped on, and our friends Hermione, Neville, and Luna.”

“British right? Y’all must go to Hogwarts, then? My cousin Ant is about to start his fourth year there.”

“Hey guys,” Ant waved from where he stood with Penny, having managed to dodge and avoid the collision.

By that point, Remus and Wilhelm had managed to catch up.

“What’s all the excitement, kids?” Remus asked. Padfoot whined as Harry shrugged, appearing nonchalant.

“Padfoot smelled something… I think it might have been a _rat_.”

The stiffening of Remus’ spine was subtle enough to go unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t paying close attention, but Padfoot knew that his old friend had caught the hint.

“I… see. Hello children.”

“Hey, Professor Lupin,” came the response from multiple voices. Remus had been the ‘Defence Against the Dark Arts’ teacher at Hogwarts the previous year, so he was familiar to the British teens.

“What are you doing here?” The boy, Ron, asked.

The curly-haired girl, Hermione, smacked her friend in the arm. “Ronald,” she hissed.

“Ow. Sorry Professor.”

“Not a problem, Mister Weasley, and you don’t have to call me Professor anymore, you know, as I am no longer employed by Hogwarts.”

“But you were the best DADA Professor we’ve had,” The other boy protested.

“Why thank you, Mister Longbottom. You were all excellent students as well. I was sorry to have ended my time at Hogwarts, though I was glad to get home to the Reserve with this brat,” he laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “for the summer. Now then, what was this about a rodent?”

“Probably just Scabbers,” the Weasley boy muttered. “He’s been hiding in my clothes a lot lately.”

“That’s Ron’s pet rat,” Harry’s new friend explained.

“I didn’t bring him with me here, though. The World Cup’s no place for pets,” her brother added, with a glare at the dog that’d knocked him down.

“Padfoot’s kind of a special case,” Harry explained, grabbing his father’s collar to keep him from growling at the other teen. “I’ve got a… well, a condition of sorts, and Padfoot helps me deal with flare-ups. That means that he goes everywhere with me, even attends classes with me at Ilvermorny.”

“And to answer your earlier question, Mister Weasley,” Remus added, “Harry’s father Patrick is a close friend of mine. He couldn’t make it to the Cup, so Harry is my responsibility for the week. By the way, Harry, did you introduce everyone?”

Padfoot snickered mentally as Harry smacked himself lightly on the forehead. “Oops, right, I forgot that part. Like I said, I’m Harry and this mutt,” he rubbed his guardian’s head in much the same way as Pads did to Harry when he was in his human form, “here is my dog Padfoot. Don’t worry, he’s not actually a Grim; he just looks a little like one.”

“I mentioned my cousin Ant, Anthony Goldstein that is. Beside him is our cousin Penny, Penelope Wakefield, who is at Ilvermorny like me. The terrible duo beside her are twins and another set of cousins, Rolf and Ingrid Scamander, who hail from Durmstrang in the north.”

“We’re Brits, ourselves, though,” Rolf chimed in. “And that handsome bloke there beside Remus is our Da, Wilhelm Scamander.”

Most of the group gave shy waves, uncomfortable at being introduced to a strange adult. The blonde, Luna, was the exception. She had a huge grin on her face.

“Scamander? Like Newt Scamander?”

“What about Papa?” The question came from all the teens - even Ant, who was technically Newt’s Great-Nephew.

“You’re all… related… to him?” the girl’s smile got even larger. “He’s my hero. Did you know that he was the first person to capture images of a half-dozen different Magical creatures in the wild? Daddy and I have been inspired by his travels; we’ve been hunting for proof of the crumple-horned snorcack for years.”

Her friend’s hissed, “shut up, Luna,” was hidden by laughter from the other teens. “That sounds like Papa,” Rolf agreed. “Do you know what kind of biome these ‘crumple-horned snorcacks’ inhabit?”

With that, Rolf and his new friend were off, discussing potential locations for future ‘hunts’ given the older teen’s experience with arctic environments.

“Well, we’ve lost him.” Ingrid said with a shrug. “He’s just as creature mad as Papa.”

Some of the new teens gaped at the thought of someone taking Luna’s creatures seriously, while the others hid smiles behind their hands.

“Would the rest of you care to join us in walking the camps?”

“Sure. We were just heading over to the souvenir booths.”

“Sounds good.”

The newly merged group headed off, trailed by Remus and Wilhelm, who Padfoot could hear Remus updating via whispers and the distracted naturalists.

 

Padfoot was so focused on the rat and how he might be captured successfully that he didn’t bother teasing Harry about his poor attempts at flirting, something that he usually gloried in doing. Instead, his mind was running non-stop with ideas of how they might catch Pettigrew by surprise and take him before he could escape.

_Remus and I can’t be in the first wave, he’d recognise our scents just like I knew his. Probably should keep any of the Clan law enforcement people off the list as well, just in case… Maybe we send in one of the ladies as a scout, hit him with a stunner, and then put him in an unbreakable cage to stop a transformation?_

His brain was stuck running in circles, as thoughts of the rat triggered bad memories…

Which then led to contemplating better ideas for capturing him…

Which then led to fears of the rat managing to escape like he did the last time…

Which then led back to the bad memories, especially ones that had been repressed until the scent trigger hit…

Unnoticed by the distracted Grim, Pads’ depressive spiral began stirring up Harry’s Obscurus through the pair’s linked Magics. Buried in Harry’s subconscious, it caught a whiff of the other Wizard’s panic. Having been trained through the years to emerge only at Harry’s direct command, it instead gathered itself up in preparation to burst out instantaneously when summoned.

Thankfully, Padfoot was shaken out of the spiral when the two groups of teens prepared to separate. When he realized that he was stirring up the Obscurus, he quickly projected reassurance through the link. In response, Harry shot him an amused grin. Apparently, Harry hadn’t noticed his parasite’s agitation.

Pads’ sigh was inaudible.

_Good. I didn’t upset him, then._

Padfoot shook off his melancholy long enough to overhear the teens’ plans. Both groups needed to grab a meal and get all decked out in their match gear before the start of the game. He let out a nearly subsonic whine at the thought of leaving their first new lead in hunting the traitor in years.

This time, it was Remus’ sensitive ears that caught the whine. Under the guise of petting Padfoot, he knelt down and whispered that he’d be sitting with the Weasley patriarch in the Ministry Box.

“I’ll see if I can convince Arthur to invite me to visit the Burrow,” Remus promised, before he stood up.

Then he turned to the crowd of teens. “Actually, let me be a responsible adult and walk with you all back to your campsite,” Remus told the British group. “I would like to know where it is. I believe that we will be in the same Box during the game.”

Unaware of the currents running under the surface of the conversation, the kids shrugged and nodded, and the two groups headed off in opposite directions.


	2. Imperius Overwhelmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when creature-based skills meet Wizard-cast curses? Surprising interactions…
> 
> POV Character – Bartemius Crouch, Junior. British Wizard, Death Eater, and former Prisoner of Azkaban, officially declared dead back in 1982. He has been held prisoner by his father Bartemius Crouch, ever since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Barty Crouch, Junior is a very nasty man, and as such, his mind is a very disturbed place. He makes a number of asides during this chapter about past incidents. Some of them may be disturbing for the reader and include vulgar language, non-consensual infidelity, sexual assault, torture, murder, etc. I’ve not gone into detail, but the implications are there if you are sensitive to such subjects.
> 
> I've updated the overall story rating to Mature because of this, just in case.

The noise was the first thing that penetrated the _Imperius_ haze: the sounds of tens of thousands of people yelling and screaming in hundreds of different languages.

Vision came next, light and colour almost overwhelming in its intensity. He caught a glimpse of massive golden hoops, before his eyes were distracted by glints of reflected light from the outrageous outfits that many attendees wore.

A memory swam up into the front of his brain. It came from the last time his father updated the _Imperius_.

 

_“I have decided to give you a present; not that you deserve it. Today is the Quidditch World Cup. I was given a seat in the Minister’s Box thanks to my position; but I will be far too busy actually working to use it. So, Winky will be taking you – under the cloak of course – to watch the match.”_

_Bartemius Crouch, Senior continued speaking, taking a more formal tone as he gave orders to go with the curse. “_ Imperius _. You will accompany Winky to the site, where you will follow all of her orders precisely. You will make no attempt to contact any person, claim a wand, or leave her side. You will sit quietly, watch the match, and then wait for me to return you here.”_

_With that, young Bartemius – Mouse to his friends – fell back into the spelled haze that he spent most of his time trapped inside these days._

 

Now he was at the Pitch, sitting in a prime viewing seat, with an invisibility cloak covering his body and Winky perched between his outstretched legs to keep people from trying to claim the ‘empty’ seat. He could feel her quivering, and managed to quirk a hint of a grin.

As Mouse knew all too well, the little DEAR was absolutely terrified of heights. Back in the days before Hogwarts, he used that fact to his advantage.

Whenever Winky was too annoying, or he just needed to escape, he would simply head out into the woods behind his house. At the edge of the woods, he would stop and climb up to the top of one of the border trees. Once he had reached the heights of the forest, he had constructed a network of branch trails. When he was a child, Mouse had assumed that the God of the Forest had provided those paths, but as an adult he knew that they were a manifestation of his own Wild Magic.

The trails allowed him to explore the entire span of the forest without ever setting foot on or even near the ground. Back then, his favourite game was to pretend to be a Bane Sidhe. Not one of those disgusting ‘light’ elves, but one of the Wild Hunt from Mother’s stories – and ‘hunting’ for prey in the branches.

Of course, when Winky braved the heights to fetch him, she became the prey…

Despite the _Imperius_ pushing him to remain still, his grin managed to grow slightly larger at the memory.

 

While Mouse was distracted in his own memories, the Ministry Box where he sat had begun to fill. In the far corner of the Box, Mouse spotted the ancient Lord Oran Nott and the rather gorgeous Luscious Lucy Malfoy, his former comrades-in-arms. Morgana bless but Malfoy had grown even more scrumptious since the last time he’d seen the other Wizard. He and Rabby had tried to tempt Malfoy into their bed on a number of occasions, but the pale haired Lord was astonishingly faithful to his precious ‘Cissa. He even refused to lay claim to the warm bodies available during the Death Eater raids, unlike Mouse and his lover, who had revelled in such fun.

Malfoy and Nott were engaged in apparently serious discussion with a pair of swarthy Eastern European Wizards. The language that they spoke sounded like German, but Mouse wasn’t sure. Unlike his father, Mouse was not a serious polyglot. The only languages he spoke besides English were Latin and a bit of Old Norse from his runes research.

Hovering beside the conversing foursome was a hapless Cornelius Fudge, the moron. He clearly did not speak the language, but held on regardless, brightening whenever one of the other Brits threw him a ‘translation’. Obviously, Lucy had a good handle on the politician.

Fudge’s dilemma made Mouse want to snort.

 

_His father had been complaining about the Wizard to his captive son since shortly after he’d removed Mouse from Azkaban. It seemed that with his father’s downfall, the other Wizard had stepped into his place in the political arena. According to his father, Fudge had stolen the ambitious Crouch’s desired position and then proceeded to make it a laughing stock in the International Wizarding Community._

_In his position as the Department Head for International Magical Cooperation, Crouch Senior had had a front row seat to the degradation of Albion’s reputation with the rest of the Wizarding World. Fudge’s bad habit ‘changing his mind’ whenever he received the ‘right motivation’, read bribes, had weakened Britain’s position on a number of key issues. Then there was Dumbledore’s high-handedness, the ‘Master Manipulator’ regularly made Albion look like fools who couldn’t accept that they were no longer on the top of the ladder in the International Community while performing his duties as Supreme Mugwump._

_Indeed, according to his father, “the Kingdom of Albion’s international reputation is in tatters. The bloody Yanks are the worst these days, especially in the aftermath of the Black Affair.”_

 

Now that memory was one that Mouse savoured, one of the few from his captivity that he would treasure.

 

_On an otherwise average day in early 1987, his father had arrived home from work coldly fuming. He had barked at Winky, and ordered her to punish herself not once, but three separate times in the same evening. Then, once the old man had imbibed several glasses of firewhiskey, he went off on a rant, entertaining his captive audience._

_According to the old man, Sirius Black, a Wizard whom he had personally sent to Azkaban, had been officially declared innocent at a recent ICW inquiry. Even worse, the ICW had convened their inquiry because Black was a fugitive. Apparently, the younger Wizard had managed to escape from Azkaban Prison over a year before, and had claimed asylum with MACUSA. To make things worse, Fudge had been aware of this escape for quite a while but had chosen not to inform Mouse’s father of that fact. _

_“And the worst thing of all is,” Crouch slurred, “I cannot do anything about the whole mess.”_

At the end of the Box near where Mouse and Winky sat, a trio of Wizarding teens stood in a cluster, conversing quietly.

There were two boys, who looked to be old Oran’s grandson and Lucy’s son. Now, Lucy’s son was a lovely little thing, despite his sharp nose.

_Wouldn’t mind popping that one’s cherry,_ Mouse mused. _That would fuck with his father’s head, properly, wouldn’t it?_

The boy’s blonde hair, a match to his fathers, was pulled back in a short tail that made Mouse groan with desire. If his damaged memory told him true, the boy was named something that followed the Black traditions – _Draconus, or something like that. Lucy wouldn’t shut up about the brat’s birth the first few times I saw him afterwards. The little ponce is what – fourteen?_

Then there was the other one. Unlike Lucy, Theo Nott the first had been an excellent partner, who had often joined Mouse and Rabby in their fun when they went raiding. Mouse knew that Oran Nott was more senior than their Lord and had known the powerful Wizard when they were both at Hogwarts. Oran had only joined the cause because Voldemort’s political agenda dovetailed nicely with Nott’s own. Unlike his father Oran, though, Theo had been a devout follower of the Dark Lord and had borne the Mark proudly. Sadly, the Wizard had been killed by Aurors during a Death Eater raid in 1979, a few months before his son was born.

In the months following Theo’s death, Old Oran had withdrawn his public support of Voldemort’s goals, in an attempt to protect himself and his family from prosecution. Mouse knew that the Dark Lord understood, and even appreciated the long-term benefits of the Notts maintaining their standing; still the Wizard was infuriated by the apparent setback. All those who had accompanied Theo on the raid where he’d died were hit with multiple bouts of the _Cruciatus_ in the months after his death, and Voldemort had made the Aurors who had killed Theo especial targets. Old ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody had received the eye injury that gave him his iconic nickname after being targeted for his part in Nott’s death.

_Young Theo certainly takes after his father in face as well as name,_ Mouse thought, _though his tastes in women appear to be different if the dark haired beauty on his arm is any indication._

“Any word on who’s going to replace the werewolf?” Nott asked. “Grandfather said that some of the parents demanded his departure after what happened with Greyback.”

“If Father knows, he’s playing it close,” was Malfoy’s reply. “It’s a shame; Lupin was a good teacher, despite being a werewolf. He managed to treat us Slytherins fairly, even though he’s a Gryff.”

“True,” the boys’ companion, a beautiful brunette dressed in exquisitely tailored ice blue robes that matched her eyes, commented. “Did you hear about what he said to Professor Snape? Tracy happened to be using the lab next to Snape’s office to practice for exams and heard the whole thing. Apparently, something happened when they were students.”

_The infamous ‘attack’ that got Black kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team,_ Mouse thought with a slight twitch of his lips at the memory.

“It seems that Snape’s been brewing the Wolfsbane for Lupin and the poor little Hufflepuff all year, helping them remain in control on Full Moon nights.”

“According to Tracy, Lupin told our _precious_ head of house that he thought that Snape had finally **put childish grudges aside** but, ‘revealing Miss Abbott’s condition as well as mine was both shameful and extremely poor behaviour for a member of the faculty. If that young woman suffers any consequences from your immaturity and inability to compartmentalize, I will personally make sure that you regret it. Lycanthropy is an incurable condition, not a choice, as you very well know.’ Tracy has been cooing over how _sexy_ Lupin sounded while in protective mode.”

In unison, the two boys shuddered. Obviously, they didn’t want to hear about their female classmates fantasies.

_Well, it sounds like the scrumptious Remus has gotten even more protective and attractive with age… while Severus has… not. Not that Severus was ever very appealing, despite that delicious Dark aura. I just couldn’t get past the beak of a nose, and his greasy hair and poor bathing habits made things worse._

“I’m just glad that Greyback’s Kiss means no more Dementors,” Nott admitted. “I had such terrible nightmares last year. Speak of the devil though, Daph,” he continued. “It looks like our esteemed former Professor has joined us up here in Prime seating.”

Sure enough, the man himself, the lovely Remus Lupin, had just walked into the Ministry Box.

_Merlin’s balls, the man still has an arse one could bounce a knut off, even if he has it covered in that hideous robe._

He was accompanied by the plump, balding, and redheaded form of Arthur Weasley, as well as an absolute crowd of teen Witches and Wizards. The Weasley Patriarch was gesticulating wildly as he made a point to Lupin. Behind him the redheaded teens, presumably Weasley’s children, rolled their eyes at their father’s antics as they and their friends made their way down to the front of the Box.

“Malfoy, Nott, Greengrass,” one of the non-redheads stopped to greet the Slytherin trio as they passed. The rest of the gang continued walking; their hands filled with Omnioculars and other souvenir paraphernalia.

“Longbottom. How’d Weasley manage so many tickets?” the Malfoy boy asked a touch snidely. “Ministry Box is quite the coup.”

The Longbottom boy winced as his blonde friend, the only other one who stopped to chat, patted his arm. “It’s alright Neville, Draco just has a bit of a Nargle infestation,” she said vaguely.

_What?_

As Mouse shrugged off his confusion, the other boy replied. “Reparations from Fudge for the Dementor affair,” he said shortly.

“So the rumours are true, then?” Malfoy and Nott’s companion, a Greengrass apparently, asked. “You all got caught up in the mess with Greyback? Did you see it happen?”

“Unfortunately,” Longbottom muttered. “The Dementors had gotten Greyback, were hovering over Professor Lupin and Hannah, and some of them were coming at the rest of us. Luckily, most of us had been taking the Professor’s Patronus lessons… None of us has managed a form yet, but the mist all of us produced together managed to hold them at bay until the other Professors got there. Dumbledore was FURIOUS. I didn’t know you could use Patronus Messengers as Howlers!”

Everyone smirked at that, even the invisible Mouse.

“Apparently, Fudge offered Box seats to everyone who got caught up in the affair, his way of trying to avoid a worse scandal. Hannah’s off sitting with cousins, but the rest of us accepted the offer.”

Longbottom eyed the others, “I’m sure that your father has told you, but Fudge is still hurting politically from that mess. Gran says that the Dementor affair may be the last straw with the Wizengamut. There have been rumours that he might get dismissed from his position!”

“Come on Neville, Luna, leave the Slytherins alone. You have to see this!” One of the Weasley teens called from the front of the Box.

“Go ahead,” the Nott boy gestured. “Talk when we get back to campus?”

“Sure. I’d like to get the Slytherin contingent involved in handling the Abbott issue. You know what Pansy and the brutes are like; we need to head them, among others, off before something happens.”

Malfoy nodded. “We’ll get the Dark Neutrals on board. I assume that Madame Longbottom has already briefed you regarding upcoming events?”

A nod was the apparently easy response.

“We need to make sure that our generation at least gives a good impression to our visitors.”

“Don’t worry… the wrackspurts are looking to migrate away from Hogwarts this year.”

“Thanks… Luna… that was… helpful.”

“Bye!”

With that, the spacey blonde – Luna, apparently, a Malfoy relative if Mouse read her features right – dragged the Longbottom boy off.

Glancing over at the crowd on the other side of the box, Mouse noticed that Remus and Arthur Weasley had joined the other adults. A gust of wind flattened both Remus and Lucy’s robes against their backs, an embarrassment of riches.

_Oh, Morgana bless! Just look at that view! Reminds me of what Rabby used to say about Remus back when we fought  – hate to see him escape, but love to watch him go. He used to make me so hard during our fights. I would to come away from the battle with an urgent need to scratch an itch. Any time Rabby and I fucked after fighting Remus, both of us were usually imagining that arse instead._

_You know, I think Rabby convinced Greyback that if he managed to capture Remus he should turn him over to us for our use instead of killing him outright. I can only imagine what he offered that monster in exchange, something young, no doubt._

The thought of Greyback’s proclivities made even Mouse shudder in disgust.

At that end of the Box, the quartet of adult Wizards who had been chatting in German still formed the core of the conversation, along with Fudge and a statuesque brunette Witch robed in green.

Straining his ears, Mouse was able to overhear her name. It was Brighid O’Leary, and she was apparently the current Head of the Irish Magical Parliament. Ireland was nominally a part of the Magical Kingdom of Albion but handled its own internal affairs separate from the Ministry in London. From what Mouse overheard, the two German speakers were the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and his assistant, and appeared to be friendly acquaintances with both Remus and Lucy.

That was as far as Mouse got before the _Imperius_ haze that had been tugging at his mind managed to pull him back under.

 

_Beautiful… I must have them… How can I make them mine…?_

This time, instead of a gradual emergence, Mouse was pulled from the _Imperius_ haze quite abruptly. He leaned forward, straining his eyes as he stared at the Magical sight of flowing blonde hair and ethereal beauty floating in the air before him. His hands clenched and relaxed, even as Winky squeaked when her ‘seat’ was disturbed.

Then, suddenly, the pull stopped, and Mouse collapsed back. Around him, he could see the men and boys in the stadium coming out of the fog that the women – Veela, for that was what they were – had induced. He blinked for what felt like ages, even as the rest of the Ministry Box oohed and aahed over the display of gold and sparkles that the Irish Leprechauns had made. It was strange, but when the Veela allure eased, it felt like something more had happened.

_Something else had changed… but what?_

Then it registered, he’d moved without direction. That was in direct contradiction of his father’s _Imperius_ orders.

_But was it just the allure temporarily overwhelming the orders, or something more permanent?_

He had to be careful, if Winky got any hint that he was free, her orders from his father would compel her to return him to the house, where he’d once again be trapped. Fortunately, his arms were far enough from her small form that their movement wouldn’t disturb her.

One finger at a time, he tensed, and then relaxed his hands.

 

Despite the noise of the game, and the cheers of those around him, Mouse’s full attention was focused on maintaining his freedom from the _Imperius_. Recognizing that his best chance to escape the house-elf was during the chaos after the game, he forced himself to wait patiently.

His patience was rewarded when, as the rest of the spectators made their way out of the box, two things happened. For one, while waiting his turn to leave, the young Longbottom boy stood close enough to Mouse’s seat that he was able to reach out and snag the boy’s wand without alerting Winky. Feeling the rush of magic that always accompanied the first time a Witch or Wizard picked up a new wand, Mouse was surprised to realize that he recognized it.

_The boy’s using his father’s old wand. I’m surprised that he managed to get it to work at all, given what Rabby did with it._

Mouse smirked as he remembered his lover’s rather clever discovery. It seemed that when a wand was used to cast offensive curses – like the _Cruciatus_ – on its owner, it broke the wand’s loyalty, and further increased the power of the offensive spells. Of course, the initial casting required a great deal of extra brute force and mental fortitude, as the attacking Witch or Wizard was ‘breaking’ the wand to some degree. Rabby’s ideas had come from the old children’s stories of the Elder Wand, a tool notorious for its lack of loyalty.

As he tucked the wand away in his robe, he could almost feel it purring in his mind.

_Seems it remembers me as its Master’s ally,_ he mused. _That could be interesting. Too bad I can’t claim the boy too. He’s tasty, if you look past the bit of pudge, that is._

He was keeping a close eye on the boy to make sure that the teen didn’t notice his wand’s absence too soon, so he caught the whispers exchanged between him and one of the girls in his group.

“Neville, I’ve been thinking. You know that boy, Harry, the one that we met?”

“Sure.”

“Well, at first I thought maybe he was named after your famous godbrother, but then he mentioned that he was in the same year as us…”

“And?”

“That’s just it; he couldn’t be named after someone who wasn’t famous when he was born. But… he could actually BE your godbrother.”

_Potter? The missing boy saviour? Interesting._

“What makes you say that?”

“You remember those stories that the Professor told while we were stuck in the infirmary; you know, the ones which had the twins declaring him a god among men? He mentioned that one of his friends was named James and referenced an unsuccessful attempt to ‘woo Lily’, so I did some research, and it turns out, he was in the same year as James Potter and Lily Evans.”

“So?”

“So, you saw how he was with Harry. What if… what if he was part of the group that kidnapped Harry, but it was for the boy’s protection? Remember what Quirrell said before he died? That you were the wrong boy, but the right one was missing?”

_Remus is certainly capable, especially if he had help. Hm, Black. I wonder…_

“Hermione, even if you’re right, it doesn’t mean anything. If Harry is really Harry Potter, he clearly doesn’t want people to know.”

“But aren’t you curious?”

“Sometimes, ‘Mione, your need to know everything can get you in trouble. I think this may be one of those times. Just drop it.”

She huffed, her curly hair drooping a bit. “Fine. But if something happens, I blame you.”

_Now that Witch could be useful, either as a hostage or as a tool.  I’ll have to keep her in mind, along with Longbottom and the cute little Draco._ Mouse was distracted for a second at the idea of having a whole harem of teenage boys for his use.

Meanwhile, the Longbottom boy reached over and gave his friend a half-hug. “Besides, have you ever heard Luna’s commentary about how Ginny is a Harry Potter fangirl? You saw that she hit it off with Harry earlier; that could be ruined if she even suspected that he might be her childhood hero.”

At that, the twit giggled a little, “fair enough. Between Romilda Vane’s aggressive blooming and those Ravenclaw bitches including her in their trashing of Luna, Ginny needs the reassurance of a harmless flirtation with a boy who finds her attractive. How did you get so smart, Nev?”

“I pay attention, ‘Mione.”

 

Mouse waited until the stadium was mostly cleared out before he left his seat. He followed his jailer Winky’s instruction as she lead him out of the Box, down the stadium stairs, and out into the crowds without a hint of protest. Once on the ground, she tugged him along the path leading back to his father’s tent, where the _Imperius_ orders instructed him to remain until his father arrived to take him back to the house.

Taking advantage of the drunken chaos around them, Mouse managed to ‘lead’ his little monitor into a large crowd. Once inside, he slipped the cloak from her grasp and escaped into the chaos.

Of course, Mouse knew that the second he did any magic, the DEAR LITTLE THING could use her familial bond to locate him. Thus, he relied solely on the invisibility cloak that his father had _so considerately provided_ as he made his way through the crowds, avoiding any active use of magic.

As he crept along, Mouse was distracted by a pleasant sight. There were a group of masked Wizards dressed in the old Death Eater uniform and _– gasp –_ Muggle Baiting _._

At first, Mouse was thrilled to see the continued practice of the Dark Lord’s teachings, especially so many years after his Master’s ‘defeat’. But then, he got closer.

_Morgana bless, it’s just a bunch of drunken idiots blowing off steam,_ he thought. _I doubt any one of those incompetents even went on raids, let alone cast an Unforgiveable. I suppose the anonymity of the Death Eaters ranks has let them claim grander status than they actually held. Fools. Bumbling lackwits… I wonder what they would do when faced with a real Death Eater, one of us who truly deserved the title._

That was it. He was going to do something… dramatic.

Mouse let out a high pitched cackle as he made his way to a nearby hill. As he walked, he made sure to keep an eye out for any sign of either his father or Winky. They were the only ones who might spot him underneath the cloak, and stop his fun.

 

Less than a half-hour later, he was giggling hysterically as he pulled off the invisibility cloak and collapsed onto the sand. The beach where he lay was an old favourite of his and Rabby’s, a place where they used to go after raids to blow off steam and have some… fun. As such, it was ingrained in his consciousness to the point of being able to Apparate there blindly.

 

_When he reached the crest of the hill, Mouse paused to take in the sight. Below him stood the various campsites being used for the Cup, while the now defunct stadium stood tall behind it. Off to one side, he could see flames and hear the cries from the rioting around the Muggle Baiting group, but that was only in one segment of the camp. The rest of the valley was filled with drunken yells, fireworks going off – most of them Shamrock Green – and general merriment._

_He gave an evil grin. Soon, that would change. But first, he needed to find a place to retreat, where he could watch the upcoming chaos without being caught._

Ah, perfect…

_Pulling out the second wand he’d managed to liberate from its original owner – the Longbottom wand being too perfect for him to sacrifice casually – he cast_ MORSMORDRE _. The curse sent a smoky version of the Dark Mark, coloured a poisonous looking acid green, up to hang in the sky, visible to all those out celebrating._

_Then he dropped the wand he’d used, sprinted across the clearing, and climbed up into the crotch of a nearby tree. Once in a comfortable position, he readjusted his invisibility cloak to ensure that every part of his body was hidden from view._

_The first thing he heard once settled in his hiding spot was the pop of a house-elf’s arrival. Mouse smirked as he watched Winky, arms out in front of her as she tried to locate an invisible Wizard, circle the spot where he’d cast the spell. She was clearly hunting for his hidden form._

_“Young master is being trouble, he is. And Winky is being blamed, for certain, she is,” the house-elf squeaked as she searched._

_Only a few moments later, the staccato sound of a large group of Wizards Apparating in close succession rang out. Following that, red light – stunners – shot towards Winky where she stood, hunting while ‘punishing’ herself._

_Mouse almost gave himself away with a manic giggle, but managed to suppress it in time._

_“Look ‘ere, it seems to be an ‘ouse-elf wi’ a wand,” one of the Wizards commented when he spotted Winky’s downed form. “That’s against regulations, that is.”_

_“Wait a minute, I recognize that elf,” said another, before Mouse caught his father’s frosty tones._

_“That is quite enough speculating, gentlemen, let us revive her and get some answers.”_

_“Mr. Crouch.”_

_“Sir.”_

_“Now then, let us see what she has to say._ Ennervate _.”_

_Winky sat up slowly, clearly still woozy. “Master Barty, sir!” she squeaked. “I – I…”_

_“Come on, elf, spit it out,” encouraged one of the Wizards. “You cast that incantation didn’t you?”_

_“Now man, don’t assume…”_

_“That is enough. As this is my house-elf, kindly allow me to ask the questions. Now then, Winky, I order you to answer the gentleman’s question. Did you, or did you not, cast the Dark Mark?”_

_“No – no, Master. I is being following the signs and being looking. I is having picked up the wand, but Winky didn’t – Winky couldn’t… cast…”_

_“That is enough. Winky, you have failed me and embarrassed me in front of other Wizards. You know what that means. That means_ clothes. _”_

_At that, Mouse’s shoulders shook with the effort of hiding his cackles. The first of his tormentors was getting their comeuppance._

_“No! Please, Master, Winky is being sorry…”_

_“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will leave you to your investigation. No doubt the culprit is long gone, and I have a servant to dismiss.”_

 

In the bustle of Wizards coming and going, Mouse had felt certain that the crack of his Apparition would go unnoticed. Therefore, he felt free to depart, making a start on his newly recovered freedom by visiting his old favourite hangout.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: the first two chapters of the ‘Appendices’ is also up for reading. 
> 
> In the first chapter, I’ve added a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.
> 
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.


	3. The Clan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup Festival mess, the Gramander Clan schemes and enjoys time together at their British home base.
> 
> POV Character – Newton ‘Newt’ Scamander. British (and American) Wizard, World Renowned Magizoologist, and adoptive Grandfather to Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not a big sports person, so the Quidditch bit in this chapter was a challenge to write. I ended up keeping most of the action ‘off-screen’, so you’ll have to use your imagination there.

The smell of the Hippogriff barn took Newt back to his childhood, helping his mother feed and care for their herd. A unique combination of scents – the musty smell of hay, the copper tang of bloody meat, and the spice of the specialized oil used to treat the animals’ feathers – the barn’s aroma was inexorably linked to Sybil Scamander for Newt. These days, though, the herd was under the care of Newt’s nephew Judah and his wife Peggy, Newt’s current companion.

“Well now, aren’t you a fine fellow?” Newt commented as he tossed a hunk of bloody beef to one particularly aggressive male. His silver wings mantled like the bird of prey in his heritage, as the Hippogriff bobbed his head, consuming the provided snack.

“That’s Buckbeak,” Peggy commented, coming up beside Newt. “He’s a transplant from the Hogwarts herd, was sent over after an incident in their Care of Magical Creatures class last fall. The Ministry wanted to execute him, the poor thing, but we managed to convince them that removing him from any possible exposure to children was sufficient. Hagrid spoiled him a bit before the transfer – the dear was worried that he’d be executed – so he can be pretty demanding.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t help that he’s trying to find his place in your herd’s hierarchy,” Newt added with a smile.

“That is true,” Peggy agreed. “I got the impression from Hagrid that he was the King Stallion in the Hogwarts herd, but he’s not nearly strong enough to take on Old Strongwing and claim that position here.”

 

The pair’s discussion was interrupted when the Scamander Estate Wards chimed, indicating the arrival of approved visitors Apparating through the Ward’s protective barrier. Knowing that it was likely the return of the Quidditch World Cup party, Newt and Peggy hurried to finish feeding the herd, washed their hands and arms, and then headed inside.

Once there, they found the family parlour crowded. The room was filled with a number of small groups, the households, both large and small, that were part of the Gramander Clan and their Allies: both local and those visiting from overseas.

Despite the reassurances sent after the riots the night before, those who had remained at the Manor during the QWC festivities still needed soothing. They needed physical confirmation of their loved ones’ safe return.

And of course, emotions were running extra high thanks to the insane rumours found in that morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet.

“So…” Tina asked, her no-nonsense tone cutting through the babble of reunions. “What actually happened last night? We all,” she gestured around the room, “know that most of what the Prophet prints is sensationalist drivel, but there’s generally a kernel of truth buried in the midst of that twaddle.”

“It was mostly just typical post-match drunken shenanigans,” Percy replied to his partner as he squeezed her hand, wrapping his other arm around Newt and relying on their support to stay on his feet. “That is, until some drunken idiots decided that what their celebration was missing was a side of Mundane baiting.”

“And, thanks to the Ministry’s Quidditch World Cup Organizing Committee’s lack of foresight, those numbskulls had easy targets for their activities,” Theseus added from where he sat in his favourite armchair in one corner. Newt’s older brother had embraced his role as a crotchety old man, constantly complaining about Ministry incompetence. “Lacking the common sense that Magic gave Mooncalves; our Ministry didn’t bother to remove Muggle managers of the campsites, and practically gift-wrapped them for the idiots by hovering over them during the day and making them easy to identify.”

“I blame Crouch for that particular bit of idiocy,” He continued. “The man was always a bit of a stiff-neck, but ever since his political ambitions fell apart, he’s become as stubborn as a barnacle. He’s so uptight about obeying even the letter of the law in his own life that it carries over into how he views everyone else. They are either perfectly law-abiding citizens, or they are villainous criminals. There is no middle ground. As such, he fails to account for laziness, stupidity, or even simple mistakes in making his plans.”

Theseus paused for a moment to let out a hacking cough before continuing his rant.

“Before the match, there was a whole crew of Ministry Wizards running around frazzled while trying to manage the Muggles camp managers. They ended up constantly scolding people who were just trying to enjoy the festival atmosphere, and then Obliviating the poor Muggles. By the time I saw them, the befuddled souls were basically under a constant Confundus Charm. The Ministry really should have just arranged for the Muggle managers to go on vacation and then placed a temporary Muggle-Repelling Ward over the whole area,” he finished with a snort and another cough.

“Right, yes, now that ‘Zeus has had his chance to rant, I can continue the story,” Percy said drily as he shared a glance with Newt. “A number of the Wizards in the crowd decided that a costume was needed as a part of their Mundane baiting activities. I assume that several of them were old allies of yours?” He added, looking over at Lucius Malfoy.

The pale-haired Lord stood off to one side of the crowd, his pregnant wife tucked into his side. His older son Draco knelt beside them, keeping his younger brother Rigel distracted so that his parents could participate in the discussion.

“Only in the loosest definition of the word,” he replied. “Most of the ones I could recognize through the masks were low-level thugs, if that, during the War. I would guess that they wanted to reclaim the sense of power that they used to feel back then.”

Newt smiled as he considered the changes that a decade of alliance with his brother, daughter, and the other British Neutrals in the Wizengamut had effected on the once cocksure Lord. Back when they’d first been introduced, Malfoy could have easily been exchanged for one of the idiots that he’d just described. The only difference between him and the lower-level Death Eaters had been the amount of political power that he’d held.

These days the man was still an astute politician, but now he recognized the importance of compromise and flexibility in accomplishing one’s overall agenda. He also had learned that power gained through fear was temporary at best, while power gained through mutual respect and shared goals was more enduring.

“…the fighting between those who were decked out in old Death Eater robes and those still dressed in their match gear would have been funny if it weren’t for the innocents and children caught up in the middle.”

Newt had lost track of what Percy was saying during his musings, but it was fairly simple to pick up the thread of the conversation.

“Fortunately, with the large Clan presence, we had enough of our personal Ward stones to secure our compound as a shelter from the fighting. Remus and Pads stood guard with the children, while the rest of us sallied forth in teams to help minimize casualties and collateral damage. However, just as things were calming down, some particularly bloody-minded bastard decided to make matters worse. He cast the Dark Mark over the entire encampment and then Disapparated before he could be apprehended.”

“There was an interesting rumour floating around among the volunteers. Crouch’s house-elf was somehow involved in that mess,” Dora added from where she was perched on a couch arm beside her parents, cuddling with her baby brother Edmund. Her facial features took on various animal forms, making little Eddie giggle. Newt caught sight of a Nogtail nose, a Hippogriff beak, and even the furry face of his old Niffler comrade over the course of her recitation.

“Oh, I heard that one too,” Eris added with a flourish. “We had a triage station set up near the compound,” she said as she grimaced. “Fortunately I had packed a full kit. Besides sobering potions and hangover cures, I mostly treated minor bumps and bruises, but there were a few people who had to be sent off to Saint Mungos. There were some bad spell interactions from where the patients had been hit by multiple charms, hexes, jinxes, or even curses at the same time.”

“This whole affair is going to be one massive diplomatic headache,” Isaac groaned as he massaged his temples, no doubt attempting to fight off an incipient headache. “With my job, I have to admit that I’m very glad to be out on vacation for a few more days. But I’m sure there will still be plenty left for me to deal with when I do get back to the MACUSA main office.”

“Look on the bright side,” his brother teased. “You could still be working over here at the British Ministry instead.”

“Merlin forbid.”

 

With that, the impromptu Clan meeting broke up, as the various families within the Clan separated to share more detailed stories with their parents, children, or significant others. Newt was pulled into a secluded alcove off the main room by Percy, Remus, and Pads, who wanted his advice in their scheming.

“We had a potential rat sighting, or rather scenting, during the festivities,” Percy explained to Newt as he drew him into the curtained space, where a floor length window looked out towards the Estate’s main gate. Percy claimed the window seat, collapsing into it with a thump and forcing the others to look down at him as they talked. “It seems that he has been living with an old ally of Remus and Pads, Arthur Weasley, and his family. We believe that he has been pretending to be the family pet.”

“Still can’t believe I didn’t catch his scent at all last year,” Remus murmured from his position leaning against a marble column. “He was right under my nose up in Gryffindor tower.”

“Perhaps that explains Moony’s agitation back then?” Newt suggested. The older Wizards had taken up their younger counterparts’ habit of referring to Remus’ other self as Moony. “I know that you had assumed that your other self’s behaviour was caused by the addition of a new cub to his pack. That, plus the threat of Greyback, that is. If Moony caught a whiff of another betrayer, that would have riled up his primal instincts further. We’ve talked about how Moony has changed his primary response to certain humans. He’s still aggressive towards outsiders, but now his aggression is targeted and serves a purpose: the protection of the pack.”

“True. Sometimes I wish we could talk directly, Moony and I. Things can get lost in translation, when I use an animagus intermediary like Pads.”

“As fascinating as your ongoing observation of werewolf instincts and pack behaviour continues to be,” Percy interrupted dryly, “we should get back on topic. Ideas for the rat hunt?”

“Um, I already laid some groundwork with Arthur while we were chatting at the Cup. I mentioned dropping by to visit the rest of the family, and possibly bringing a friend with me.”

“Well, I’d love to be there, but Wormtail knows me, even in Grim form.” Pads growled. “Instead, I think we need a Wizard or Witch whose identity wouldn’t give away our intentions. Dora, maybe? I think she mentioned being friends with one of the older Weasley boys.”

“Yes, the one doing his Mastery work out at the Romanian Dragon Reserve. I believe he was a year or two ahead of her at Hogwarts. We met him during our last visit, there… What was his name?” Newt thought for a minute. He was always better at creatures than humans. Still the younger Wizard’s hair and freckles reminded him of his younger self. “O yes, Charlie, I think.”

“Right, Arthur did mention that his older sons were visiting for the festivities, but had tickets to sit with their friends instead of up in the Ministry Box with us. Sounds like the start of a plan.”

“Newt, do you have any small unbreakable cages stashed away in your bags? We could use one to contain the rat.”

“I think so. If not, I know that Judah and Peggy have a few in the barn for the occasional Magical or Mundane pest that they catch on the property.”

“Paddy… Uncle Remus… Papa… Gramps…”

The sound of Harry’s voice calling them distracted the collaborators from their discussion.

“What is it pup?” Pads asked as he poked his head out of the curtains.

“Drake had an awesome idea and we were hoping that you would want to get in on it.”

“And?” Pads gestured impatiently.

“Well, after watching the match yesterday, we’re in the mood for flying. Since there’s so many of us here we were thinking a pick-up Quidditch game or two would be awesome. Ant told us that Uncle ‘Zeus has a regulation size Pitch already set up on the Estate that doesn’t get much action.”

“Sounds like fun, but why do you need us?”

“To make the numbers for two full teams, we kind of need everyone to play. Wayne suggested we should break up kids versus adults, and the grown-ups need you for Keeper, Paddy. Besides, it would look weird if you go over to the Weasleys too early.”

Pads sputtered, as behind him the others snickered.

“Wha… pup, how?”

Harry tapped his temple, “forgot something, did ya Paddy?”

While Pads and the others did their best to keep Harry in the dark regarding the worst of the Clan’s complex and occasionally risky business, there was only so much that they could do. Between Harry’s parasite and his mental link with his Paddy, he was often pulled into grown up affairs whether they wanted him to be or not.

“Touché, pup… Sounds like a good idea, though. Who all is playing?” Pads asked, wanting to take everyone’s minds away from the latest challenge that their unusual family faced.

The rest of the schemers followed Pads and Harry back out into the parlour, which had been emptied of the earlier crowds. The Scamander house-elves were already hard at work there, straightening things up from the chaos of the informal Clan meeting.

“Where is everyone?”

“Fetching brooms and other stuff. I think Gran Tina, Auntie Queenie, and the rest are having the house-elves set out a picnic lunch later, but for now, the little kids can run around on the grass while we play. Drake is fetching my broom when he gets his, and Rolf said he’d grab yours, Paddy.”

“Assuming, huh, Pup. Okay, so who specifically did you rope into this?”

 

Out on the lawn, the ladies had indeed set up an extensive picnic area, with blankets, cushions, and even a few comfortable chairs for those who could no longer manage sitting directly on the ground. In one area, the younger children were tossing around a shrunken quaffle in imitation of their seniors.

Newt and Percy claimed a pair of chairs set up near a crimson plaid blanket, an easy walk from the house. From Percy’s heavy reliance on his cane, it was clear that Newt’s partner was feeling the effects of the previous day’s excitement.

Beside them, Newt’s grandson Rolf had already stretched out on the blanket. He sat comfortably, leaning against a large cushion, his sketchbook open in his lap and the rest of his art kit within easy reach.

“What are you drawing?” Newt asked his grandson, curious.

Rolf tilted his sketch towards the older men, revealing a flock of Veela in their bird form. “You should have seen it, Papa. The wing articulation when they made their threat display against the Leprechaun Clan was absolutely magnificent.”

“You are truly your Papa’s heir,” Percy chuckled from his seat. “Most boys your age would have been busy drooling over the Veelas’ human forms. Instead, you were attracted to a very different element of their biology and anatomy.”

A glint of gold caught the now seated group’s attention. From his seat, lounging beside his wife, Ted Tonks pulled himself up with a twinkle in his eye. Nodding at Demetrius Scamander, who had volunteered to be the match’s referee, he placed a low powered _Sonorus_ on his voice.

“My dearest fellow Wizards and Witches, the time has come! A challenge has been made… and accepted. It is a battle for the Ages: Young versus Old… though not too old.”

The Pitch filled with laughter, as the audience settled in to enjoy Ted’s atmospheric commentary.

“On my right we have our challengers: representing the latest generation of the Gramander Clan. Chasing the quaffle, we have Penelope-”

“Penny!”

“Excuse me, Penny Wakefield, Ingrid Scamander, and Draaaco Malfoy! Behind them, providing no-doubt more elegant motion than she can maintain on solid ground–.”

“Daaaad,”

“My own beloved eldest child, Dora Tonks. Alongside them, we have the younger brothers Goldstein, Dave and Wayne; wielding the bats that made them infamous back at Ilvermorny.”

“Hey!”

“I’ve heard the stories, don’t bother denying it. Last, but most definitely not least, soaring high above the rest, the daredevil seeker, Harry Grim!”

The audience shouted and cheered as the challengers took to the skies.

“On the left we have our robust, experienced types: representing the established generation – the parents…”

The adults in the audience cheered as the teens not flying booed.

“Prepared to battle against their younger comrades, two of our chasers come as a matched set. Eris and Carlos Ramirez, who are here to relive their glory days at Castelobruxo, and beyond. Teaming up with them, and directly opposing his daughter – Rogerrrr Wakefield. Defending their rear, we have the one, the only… the growly-.”

“Oy!”

“Patrick Grim!”

Even in this private space, the Clan maintained the practice of using Harry and Pads’ replacement names. Between Pads’ memory problems and the unfortunate associations that Harry had regarding his birth name, they generally preferred to go by their adopted monikers anyways.  

“Ready to protect their team – and expecting a beating battle – we have the elder Goldstein brothers, Isaac and Judah! Finally…” Ted dropped the pitch of his voice. “We have a man whose antics on the Hogwarts pitch, representing Slytherin, remain infamous to this day…”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t believe me, well… feel free to ask around. Taking position to seek and destroy, Luuucius Malfoy!”

Once again, the audience cheered as the second team took their positions. The players had changed into Quidditch robes and pads; the teens in an opalescent ivory colour which contrasted nicely against the shimmering black worn by the parents. The colours matched those used on the pitch, including the woods used in constructing the massive hoops. To ensure that he could be easily distinguished from the players, Demetrius’ referee robes were a rich amethyst in hue. 

Fifteen brooms flew, their locations set by the rules of the sport. With his wavy hair fluttering in the summer breeze, Demi held out the Quaffle in preparation for starting the game. Six pairs of eyes heightened their focus on the leather ball that he bore, even as he sent the signal to release the other three balls from their storage case. As the watching crowd cheered, he tossed the ball up in a surprisingly vertical arc.

“And they’re off. With a quick launch, Draco takes advantage his still growing form to beat the others and lay claim to the ball. Already though, he has been flanked by his opposition. Eris and Carlos, boxing in his broom and making it difficult to pass or move forward… Wait, up he goes, and the ball has been caught by Penny, who managed to outmanoeuvre her father to claim the prize. It’s Penny… Ingrid… Penny again… and a dodge, as a Bludger flies right past her ear thanks to a nice hit by Isaac.”

Ted’s commentary was fast-paced, almost like an auctioneer, as he did his best to capture all of the details occurring above him.

Watching the action, Newt was struck by how the small figures in their shimmery garments reminded him of his first War experience. He used to watch the gunmetal grey of the Ukrainian Ironbelly dragons when they flew over the encampment, their intense battles for dominance a natural consequence of the close quarters. Naturally, the dragons were much larger than the Quidditch players, but the heights where they flew meant that to the grounded watcher they appeared much the same size.

Newt would never be a big Quidditch fan, but observing the teams’ flying patterns and reflecting on their similarities to those seen in nature made the experience enjoyable. He was interrupted from his musings as one of the figures rapidly approached the ground, triggering screams from a number of the audience.

“I think Harry’s just practicing his dives,” Percy murmured from his position at Newt’s side. The other man had been paying closer attention to the actual game than his partner had been doing. “He’s trying to distract Lucius from his strategy of playing like a fourth chaser.”

“He might have spotted the snitch, though,” Rolf commented, looking up from his pad. “I thought I caught a glint of gold near the ground earlier, and if I saw it Harry definitely did. You know how good his eyes are at catching those signs.”

Newt was inclined to agree with Rolf’s assessment of Harry’s skill, but the dive ended without a catch. Unfortunately, the effort wasn’t enough to pull Lucius away from his current strategy. Seeing that the strategy had already placed the older team in the lead by a significant margin, Lucius choice was hardly a surprise.

In the end, by the time Harry managed to locate and catch the snitch, Lucius’ game strategy and Pads’ goal keeping skills had racked up enough of a point difference that the ‘Parents Team’ won with a score of 310-230.

Once the game was done, lunch came as a welcome distraction from the inevitable teasing and jibes that follow a family competition.

“Aw, Harry, why couldn’t you catch the snitch earlier?” Dora teased as she put her ‘cousin’ in a headlock.

“Look who’s talking, Auror ‘miss-a-lot’.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry about it, dear; your Uncle was notorious for using that same strategy with the Keepers during our Hogwarts days. You handled it a lot better than they used to. The Gryff Keeper our later years, old Malcom McLaggen, was especially bad at it. He’d be so riled up by Lucius’ buzzing him that he’d leave the goals untended. Listening to Prewitt, McLaggen’s Captain, yell at him was almost better than your father’s commentary about it,” Andy said with a smile.

“He certainly gave me plenty of fodder,” Ted chuckled, his voice back to normal now that the game was over. “I ended up with a few bruises from McGonagall’s corrections to my commentary during the Gryffindor/Slytherin games. That woman was rabid about her Quidditch, especially for a teacher.”

Remus and Lucius snickered. “She’s still just as bad,” the werewolf said, as the Malfoy Lord agreed.

“Severus tells me that it has become one of his few pleasures these days,” Lucius commented. He saw the look on Remus’ face when he mentioned the other Wizard and added. “I know he’s not your favourite and you don’t trust him, but we’ve been allies and friends for a long time. He is still Draco’s godfather, you know.”

“I know,” Remus sighed. “I’m just disappointed that he is stuck in the adolescent mind-set that the rest of us have all managed to push past. I had a lot of respect for him back in the day, despite being on opposite sides, but I think Lily’s death broke him in a fundamental way. Working at Hogwarts really isn’t helping with his mental state, either.”

“I think as long as ‘Tom’ is still out there he’s stuck,” Lucius agreed. “Over the past decade, he’s dropped enough hints that the old manipulator has something to hold over him regarding the Dark… excuse me, his Snakey Majesty.”

While Lucius was no longer a Voldemort partisan, he still occasionally struggled with the reflexes in his speech that he’d developed over his years with that contingent.

“Anyways… apparently, Slytherin has been fairly dominant in the Quidditch pitch in recent years, a fact that has made Minerva overly aggressive about supporting her House’s team. You should have seen the fit she threw after the Dementors attacked the seekers during the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff game last year, though that might have had more to do with the fact that the Dementors attacked students at all instead of the setting.”

“I still have no idea what Fudge was thinking with that whole mess,” Theseus commented. “We all know the man can be an idiot, but still… Dementors at Hogwarts, what kind of idea was that? Even during the Grindelwald mess and the Voldemort conflict the Ministry knew better.”

“I’ve heard rumours that it was originally his Senior Undersecretary’s idea, and she convinced him that it was his own brainstorm. Rumour has it that the woman is enamoured with the creatures. She holds the Ministry key to their control, making them her tool of choice,” Artemis Scamander commented. “My contacts in the Ministry are concerned at the degree of her power, given that her position is appointed without external oversight.”

“Dolores Umbridge, right? I know that she’s a Selwyn on her mother’s side, but she wasn’t an active Death Eater during the war,” Lucius mused with a frown. “From what I’ve heard, she’s the source of most of Fudge’s ill-considered actions of late. Even her cousins and others among my old allies who agree with her political agenda aren’t fans of her personally; she has no charisma and is not gifted at public speaking.”

“Enough politics. This is neither the time nor place for such a discussion,” Andy commented from where she sat near the group.

“Yeah. What happened to talking Quidditch?” Dora called out.

“I thought you were tired of talking about how you got beat by your Uncle.”

“Hey!”

“That’s no fair; we deserve a chance to redeem ourselves.”

“Yeah, we demand a rematch!”

The voices of the teens chimed in from multiple points.

“I’m afraid that Dora and I are out, but if you can find some replacement Keepers, I think that sounds like a splendid idea,” Pads replied. Newt knew that he wanted to keep Harry distracted from the _hunt_ that Padfoot and Remus were headed out to conduct.

“Fine,” Harry said with a pout, clearly recognizing his father’s intent, but willing to let it slide. “Rolf, please!”

Having already played his part in the Wormtail affair by retrieving a cage from Peggy and Judah’s stash, Newt was off the clock. So, he and Percy reclaimed their seats to watch the Quidditch rematch while Remus, and Dora, along with Pads and Wilhelm – their chosen backups – headed off to the Burrow for tea. Meanwhile, Rolf and Athena were recruited as replacement Keepers and a new game commenced.

This time, the parents were unable to build up enough of a lead to combat the points gained when Harry again caught the snitch. The second game ended with a final score of 280-320 in the teens’ favour.

It was maybe an hour after the game had ended and the players had all headed upstairs to clean up, that the hunting party returned. When they came through the floo from the Burrow, Newt and Percy, who were waiting downstairs, could tell with a single glance that their hunt had been unsuccessful.

“The rat had already made his escape before we arrived. According to the Weasleys, he hasn’t been seen since their QWC group made it home,” Pads said with a sigh.

“I did warn the family and their guests that their family pet was likely a Death Eater in hiding. I also pulled Arthur and Molly aside and explained about Peter being a rat animagus. When I mentioned that he’d likely spied on the Order for years before the Potters’ deaths, Molly went flush with fury. I’d forgotten that her brothers’ deaths had been caused by a spy. It seems that she’d been blaming Sirius for it for the past decade. To know that the real cause had been living in her house, well it set her off something fierce.”

“I could hear her outraged scream from my spot outside the Wards,” Pads said with a chuckle.

Remus nodded in agreement. “They promised to let us know if he reappears.” He hesitated for a moment, and then added. “Molly’s first question after she calmed down was whether I’d already informed Dumbledore. Both of them are extremely loyal to the Old Man, but especially Molly. I’m fairly sure that the Old Man was the one who made sure that all the children could go to Hogwarts. There’s no way that Arthur’s salary is large enough to afford seven sets of tuition and room/board.”

He frowned, “You know, if I were the same naïve boy I was during the War, I’d have thought nothing of it. You know, I would have just assumed that Dumbledore was acting charitable. My time with you all has taught me better. Such manipulation is standard practice for the chess master.”

Percy gave his adopted son a half-hug, and then patted Remus on the back with his other arm as Newt smiled at the trio. “At least now we know what your former friend has been doing all these years. Besides, now that he’s in motion, he’s more vulnerable to discovery. We can add the information to your MACUSA file, update the ICW warrant for Peter, and then send it out to the other member nations when we get back America. At the very least it provides us with another piece of leverage for whenever we finally take on the British Ministry.”

“I know,” Pads agreed. “It’s just hard, especially with being back here in Britain and not being free to venture out of the Estate in my human form. I guess I was caught up in the surge of memories that came with the scent trigger yesterday.”

Harry's body flew down the stairs to the area near the Manor’s main floo fireplace, where the quartet were still standing and talking. Everyone else in the hunting party had since headed off to other parts of the Manor in order to give the group some privacy.

“I’m sorry, Paddy,” he said as he wrapped his arms around his guardian. “Do we need to go out to the empty barn?”

Newt laughed a little at that.

In the years since Harry and Pads had come to live with he and Percy, they had developed a unique coping mechanism to avoid triggering Obscurus outbursts at inopportune times. Given the linked nature of the pair’s magic, they’d found that either Wizard could cause the parasite to emerge. This meant that both Harry and Pads had to be a part of the solution.  

With a great deal of work and help from mind-healers, including Legilimens Queenie Goldstein and Eris Ramirez, Harry and Pads had built a mental cage inside their shared mindscape for the Obscurus. The cage was formed using a series of mental fences, which were reinforced through meditation and weakened by strong emotions. Whenever one of the pair – usually Harry – experienced an emotional shock that threatened to knock out the barrier and release the Obscurus, the other would try to shore up the gap until they had a chance to meditate and rebuild. If the damage was severe enough, they could retreat to a safe space where they’d voluntarily let the parasite loose to engage in some ‘harmless’ destruction.

“I think we’d better,” Pads admitted, a little reluctantly.

Newt knew that Pads always tried to be strong and thus a good example to his son, but sometimes acknowledging your limitations was the best choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: The first two chapters of the ‘Appendices’ have been up for a while.  
> In the first chapter, I’ve added a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.  
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.  
> Update: The third chapter of the ‘Appendices’ just went up.  
> It is a timeline for the Obscure Guardian series. It currently only covers up through this chapter of Irregular Homecomings, but I’ll update it as further chapters are added. The timeline includes an overview of Hogwarts events from 1991-1994, which are occasionally referenced in the story by various characters but not laid out in detail.


	4. Mouse & Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Death Eaters come together, and start a new Mission.  
> POV Character – Peter Pettigrew, aka Wormtail. British Wizard, rat animagus, Death Eater, Spy, and former Marauder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second of my ‘villain’ POV chapters, intended to set the stage for the main events of the story.

For Peter, the first sign that his cushy life as Scabbers might be coming to an end arrived over breakfast the morning after the Cup. Following his usual daily routine, Peter sat perched on the fireplace mantel looking towards the Burrow’s kitchen. From that vantage, he could keep an eye on Molly, the Weasley matriarch, as she cooked. It was also a prime spot to wait to snag crumbs and other leftovers dropped during family meals.

Besides, the site usually allowed him to read the headlines of the morning’s Daily Prophet. He could see over the head of whoever was seated at the table’s head, and read as they did. Reading the newspaper was Peter’s primary method for keeping informed during the summer months, that and listening to Arthur – and now Percy – telling stories about their work days.

The smell of frying bacon made Peter’s nose twitch. Usually, by the time he could raid for leftovers, the food was cold and what remained were the sometimes-overcooked scraps that no one wanted to eat. It may keep his belly full, but it was not the most appetizing of diets.

As he sat there on the mantel, Peter’s thoughts wandered back to happier days.

_Holiday breakfasts at the Potters,_ he thought with a sigh. _The house-elves making my favourites fresh for the occasion. Crumpets with elderberry syrup, freshly ripened wheels of cheese._

He’d asked Mum Potter, as she preferred to be called, where she’d gotten them. She’d laughed, and then confided that they were family recipes. It turned out that the Potter house-elves were quite diligent in harvesting ingredients from the family’s estate. Using the collected materials – gathered from the greenhouses, dairy, and grounds – she worked with the family house-elves to prepare and store a wide range of foods for use. Cheeses and syrups were two examples of many.

Of course, Peter knew that he had no right to think of the Potters. He had betrayed them, after all. Still, those idyllic times, before the Hogwarts ended and things fell apart. Those were the memories that sustained him in his miserable existence.

 

Percy Weasley, the only Weasley son not off at the Quidditch World Cup festival, had just come downstairs from his room. He was pouring himself a cup of tea when the usual post-owl dropped off the morning’s paper in its basket. Having finished cooking, Molly levitated a pair of plates – filled with nose twitching breakfast goodness – over to the table. As she passed the basket, Molly also collected the paper from where it had been dropped.

When she opened the paper, revealing the front page spread, Molly dropped it with a shriek. The noise startled both her still half-asleep son and the eavesdropping rat. _Something must have happened at the festival,_ Peter thought, as he craned his head in order to see past the mess on the table. The unfortunately familiar, lurid green spectre that appeared front and centre on the Daily Prophet was an extreme shock to the senses. He could understand why Molly Weasley had screamed this time. Looking over the headline, Peter saw:

**_SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!_ **

The dropped paper was collected by Percy Weasley, who realized that his mother was in no condition to explain her reaction. As he read Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist drivel aloud, Percy went red with anger and then white with shock. Something about the article was of particular interest to the boy. Despite his mother’s pale face and protests, when he finished reading the rest of the article Percy was unwilling to stay at home a moment longer.

Instead, he rushed off to Floo to work, calling out as he left, “the Department is bound to be stuck dealing with this mess. Mr. Crouch will need me!”

 

Left alone – besides Scabbers, that is – Molly Weasley collapsed into her chair for a minute. Before long, though, she was up and pacing, back and forth and back and forth, in a panic over her family’s continued absence. Fortunately, for both her and the watching Peter, only ten minutes had passed since Percy’s departure before Peter caught wind of the sounds of conversation through the open kitchen window.

“Arthur!” Molly Weasley shrieked as she charged out of the house with the paper clenched in her fist. In her absence, Peter crept down from the mantle. He snatched up a bit of the food left abandoned on the dining table. When the others came in, he knew that it would all disappear into stomachs other than his own. He’d just made it back to his perch, munching on a bit of bacon, when the crowd of teenagers came storming in through the back door.

The horde of Weasley children headed straight for the kitchen, efficiently raiding the cupboards and cold box for any ready-made breakfast foods that they could find. Charlie and Bill, who had learned to cook during their time away from home, took charge of the stove. There they began grilling up masses of bangers, mash, and scrambled eggs. Meanwhile, Hermione, Luna, and Neville, who as regular guests knew where things were stored, fetched the extra chairs and got the table set for everyone, with cups, plates, silverware, etc.

By the time that Arthur and Molly made it through the door, the remains of the small meal that Molly Weasley had prepared for two had been expanded to a grand breakfast feast for eleven.

When she tried to take over the cooking, Ginny took her mother’s hand and lead her back to her seat at the table. “This morning was hard enough for you, mum. We’ve got it covered.”

Surprised at this level of thoughtfulness from her children, Molly acquiesced and reclaimed her seat at the dining table. As she did so, she poured a cup of tea for herself and her husband, who was looking through the paper that she had thrust at him while they were outside. Over the noise of multiple side conversations, Arthur Weasley read out the Prophet article, pushing through the scoffs at Skeeter’s exaggerations.

Peter appreciated the first-hand information, even as he stared and salivated over the massive meal being consumed below.

“Did someone really cast _Morsmorde_?” Molly asked at one point, waving her fork for emphasis.

“The Mark certainly appeared, but it wasn’t clear who did it.” Arthur admitted, shuddering.

“I heard some of the guys saying something about a house-elf of all things,” Charlie added. “No idea what that was about, but you know how such things go.” His laconic shrug demonstrated his lack of concern over the situation. While he was old enough to remember the end of the War, his time on the Continent had made it easy to for him to shrug off the sight that had so badly scared his mother. Most non-Brits scoffed at the idea that Voldemort was really that powerful. His campaign in the ‘70’s had been focused internally in an attempt to take over the Kingdom of Albion before making any moves abroad.

Having finished his tea and breakfast, Arthur set down the paper and stood up. “I know that I’m not supposed to work today, but with all this mess I should probably go and check on the office. Don’t worry, Mollywobbles, I’m sure that it will be fine, just busy. Oh, and I have some good news for you as well.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You remember Remus Lupin, dear?”

“Of course, Arthur. He was such a sweet boy back in the old days.”

“You know he was the Defence Teacher up at Hogwarts last year, got dragged into the Greyback mess, right? Well, the children ran into him before the match, and then he joined us up in the Ministry Box for the game. Apparently, he’s back in the Americas to live after the affair in June, but he mentioned stopping by while he was in the country. I hope you don’t mind, but I offered that he come for tea. I don’t know if he’ll still be by after last night’s nastiness, but I’m sure he’ll at least floo-call.”

“How delightful! Girls, you can help me bake.”

Molly’s excited shriek marked a death knell to Peter’s safe haven. Even if Moony didn’t already know he was here, he was sure to pick up Wormtail’s scent when he arrived. After thirteen years in the house, Peter knew that his scent was embedded into the very walls.

_NO, it’s not safe here… not anymore._

The thought spurred Peter, who had frozen at Remus’ name, into action. Taking advantage of Arthur’s planned departure, he stashed away in a pocket of the other Wizard’s robes. Once they emerged from the Ministry’s public floo, he jumped out of Arthur’s robe pocket. Following his nose and ears, he caught a lift with another Wizard, this one headed for the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley.

 

* * *

 

 

Wormtail was in his Animagus form, sniffing around the floor of the _Wyvern’s Revenge,_ a grotty looking pub located down at the end of Knockturn Alley, looking for food. It was a few days after his escape from the Weasleys, and he’d relaxed a bit when he saw no sign of hunters. Thus, it was a shock when he was snatched from off the ground. Picked up by the scruff of the neck, he was hit with a _petrificus_ before he had a chance to react. The unknown Wizard then dropped his petrified form into a pocket. The pocket – the inner pocket of a mouldy old coat – muffled all sound from outside the cloth barrier and kept Peter in the dark.

If he physically could, at that moment Peter would have been shivering with fear. His thoughts ran wild as he contemplated possible fates.

_Is this how thirteen years of careful hiding in safety ends? Rendered down into parts for some random potion. Or what if…?_

Reflexively, Wormtail’s nose tried to twitch.

_What if I was recognized?_

He wasn’t sure which would be worse: one of his old allies, who likely blamed him for their Lord’s fate, or one of his former friends, whom he had betrayed.

After a bit of muffled conversation and at least one round of drinks from what little he could hear, Peter felt the pocket where he had been stuffed begin to sway. The owner of the coat was heading up a set of stairs, likely the stairs at the rear of the pub that led to the upstairs. The second floor of the _Wyvern_ housed a collection of small rooms, which the Wyv’s owner kept for ‘discerning’ clients to use.

Once inside one of these rooms, Wormtail’s captor extracted his petrified form from where he had been stashed. Peter felt himself being lifted up by his tail and caught a glimpse of the empty room before he was set onto the floor.

_Whoever grabbed me looks like he’s on his own._

_Bloody hell,_ Peter thought as he felt the next hex that hit him. It was an Animagus reversal hex, which forced his body to stretch and contort, returning to its normal form. While he was still gasping from the pain of a forced transformation, his captor shifted Peter’s body from the floor onto a hard-backed wooden chair. The muscles in Peter’s arms spasmed, fighting through the _petrificus_ in a way that his conscious mind was unable to duplicate, as the wizard added _incarcerus_ bonds to further secure Peter to the chair.

Still frozen, Peter could do nothing other than watch as the Wizard, whose features were hidden behind a hood, applied a temporary soundproofing Ward to the room. He wasn’t sure if the Ward was to prevent eavesdroppers, keep from Peter calling for help, or both.

Finally, Peter’s mysterious captor collapsed into the room’s second chair, one that looked much more comfortable than the one he was bound to. A casual wave of the Wizard’s wand, and Peter’s chair was dragged over and set opposite the roughhewn wood table that was the final piece of furniture in the space.

As he did so, the Wizard finally pushed back his hood, revealing an unfamiliar face. The man in front of Peter was, in appearance, a typical resident of Knockturn. He had dirty, greasy hair and a scraggly beard hiding a mouth full of yellowed, broken teeth. In combination with his mouldy coat, worn clothes, and unwashed stench, he was unmemorable.

“Well now, you’re looking pretty good there for a dead man… Peter Pettigrew.” As he spoke, the tip of the speaker’s tongue briefly flicked out of his mostly closed mouth and licked his lower lip. That one distinctive facial tic gave Peter a hint. He knew who his otherwise unrecognizable – _Polyjuiced?_ – captor had to be.

“I would say the same, except that I can’t tell ‘cause of your disguise… Barty Crouch.”

Mouse – for that was indeed who it was – flinched at the name, before giving a rusty laugh. “Always knew you were more observant than you let on back in school, Wormy. Now then, I’ve heard the rumours, but we both know that you were the only true witness to THAT night. What happened?”

After a moment of hesitation, Peter told Mouse of how he had hid in the bushes outside the Potter home, watching as their Dark Master took out James Potter before moving up the stairs. He heard Lily Potter scream, and then there was a great explosion, blowing a chunk of the roof off the building. In that  moment, Peter’s Dark Mark began throbbing, just as it had when it was a fresh brand.

Mouse interrupted for a moment – “All of our Marks burned that night, you know, it wasn’t just yours.”

Peter further admitted that once the pain eased, he had snuck upstairs to investigate. When he reached the door to young Harry Potter’s nursery, he had found their Lord’s wand lying beside a pile of dust and empty robes that smelled like cremated remains. Before he could inspect further, he was forced to flee. He had caught wind of the sounds of arriving bystanders, including the engine of his old friend Sirius Black’s motorbike.

In short order, the pair of fugitives then swapped tales of their lives since that night. Along the way, Mouse got a laugh out of Wormtail’s sneak attack on Sirius Black in the immediate aftermath of the Potters’ deaths, and how he had parlayed the attack into a ‘heroic public martyrdom’.

“Pity that you couldn’t do more,” he said with a perverted giggle. “Sirius always did think himself better than everyone. His comeuppance was richly deserved.”

At that, Peter shivered. He had heard Mouse’s stories about his childhood while the Wizards were stuck waiting for orders to attack on more than one Raid during the War. Thus, Peter knew that the reason Mouse hated Sirius so much was because the other Wizard had made the daring escape that Crouch had been too cowardly to do himself.

“Too bad you didn’t get a chance to properly bugger him up before you left,” Mouse added. “Just imagine if he was driven as insane as Bella, Rod, Rabby and I left the Longbottoms.”

Peter did appreciate that Mouse praised his choice of hiding place, using a famously Light Wizarding family as his patsies.

“Staying with the relatives of some of your victims… classy that,” Mouse joked. “Can you imagine what old Firebug Molly would do if she knew the truth?”

That made Peter wince, as he’d seen the Weasley Matriarch’s temper during his time as Scabbers. He never wanted to be at the end of that woman’s wand, let alone those demon twins or their brash little sister. Her bat-bogey hex was vicious.

When the storytelling reversed, Peter felt for Mouse and the pain that the other Wizard had endured, first from his time in Azkaban and then during his decade under the _Imperius_. He cheered when Mouse told of his recent escape, including the irony that Mouse, who was a well-known fag, broke the _Imperius_ through the application of Veela allure.

“I guess their charms don’t care about your personal preference?” he suggested, which made Mouse laugh.

“I’m fairly sure that the allure latched onto my father’s Magic, as he’s the one who’d appreciate their… charms. I think that was part of why the curse snapped, as it was forcing me to feel something so unnatural, sexual desire for the female form,” Mouse explained once he stopped giggling pervertedly.

By the time they reached current events, Mouse had released the _incarcerus_ and poured both of them drinks from the bottle of firewhiskey that he had bought down at the pub’s counter.

“So now what?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his glass. “I’m pretty sure that my old hideout is no good anymore. I’ve been thinking of heading for the continent, where I should be able to live as a human without needing a physical disguise. You could come with me-” Peter didn’t really want to be stuck with the monstrous lunatic, but figured that he had to at least make the offer.

“No.” Mouse’s emphatic declaration interrupted Peter’s rambling. “We must do our best to serve our Lord. You mentioned that the Hogwarts Defence Professor was rumoured possessed by the Dark Lord’s Wraith a few years ago, that is before he died under suspicious circumstances. That news implies that Our Lord is still able to lead us; we just need to provide him with the right body. But first,” he slammed his empty glass down on the table. “We need to locate the Wraith.”

“Okay…” Peter was dubious. He had no interest in risking his life on a fool’s errand. “Where should we look?”

Mouse ran the fingers of one hand through his natural blonde locks as his tongue flicked out, the Polyjuice that he’d been under having worn off long ago. “Your tale gives us two leads: Hogwarts… and Albania. Since you’ve spent the years since that time staying in the school and have failed to find any sign of the Master, I’ll take my turn in searching Hogwarts and its surroundings.”

“Meanwhile, your task is to search on the Continent. I remember Bella and Rod mentioning Albania at some point when we were together. Apparently, there was a forest there where Our Lord had a significant encounter back in the sixties. You should start your search there. Use Our Lord’s wand, since you have it, to help guide the hunt.”

Peter grumbled, but agreed. His willingness to follow Mouse’s instructions increased when the other Wizard handed him a small purse of Galleons. According to the smirking Mouse, the funds had been liberated from his father’s Gringotts vault shortly after he’d escaped the man’s ‘care’.

At least if he was going to go off on a wild goose chase he was being paid to do so. _Of course, if I don’t find anything I can always just stay on the continent,_ Peter thought as he accepted the purse. _There’s enough here to give me a decent start._

The pair of co-conspirators settled on a site for a secure drop box – an old Death Eater ‘safe house’ – and a cypher to maintain communication as they prepared to head off in opposite directions.

As he prepared to leave, Peter tried to ask Mouse. “Just how are you planning to sneak into Hogwarts? You’re not an Animagus.”

“That’s for me to know… and you to guess,” Mouse replied with a smirk and a flick of his tongue. He took a quick swig from a flask of what Wormtail’s nose told him was the same Polyjuice that he’d used earlier. Shuddering a moment as his form shifted, Mouse left the room, which forced the disgusted rat Animagus to find his own way out.

 

* * *

 

 

With his new windfall and Mouse’s directive in hand, Wormtail set out on his mission.

Crouch’s order – for such it was – meshed well enough with his own inclinations, so Peter was willing to follow the other Wizard’s lead. Wanting to save his newly acquired funds, Peter decided to stick to free methods of travel.

Peter located a ship in the London harbour bound for the Mediterranean Sea and making a stop at the Albanian Port of Shëngjin. In his animagus form, he stowed away in its depths, just one more rat among the hordes that infested such ships.

After a long and nauseating passage, Peter finally arrived in Albania. Trusting that distance provided anonymity, he reverted to his human form and updated his now thoroughly worn out wardrobe and supplies before making his way inland. His destination: the forests at the base of the Albanian Alps.

Reaching the nearest forest’s outer edge, Peter pulled out the Dark Lord’s Yew and Phoenix wand. He then used it to cast a simple _point me._ To his surprise and trepidation, the wand immediately provided a trace, one whose strength indicated that its target was close. Following the wand’s guidance, Peter was led to a large burrow. It stood near the base of a substantial spruce tree, far into the depths of the forest.

Peering inside the burrow, he was nearly bit by an absolutely massive serpent, which burst out ready to attack. He was surprised to recognize her on sight. It was the Dark Lord’s infamous familiar, the Magically enhanced black mamba known as Nagini.

Underneath the layer of sweat, fear, and rodent, Nagini caught the scent of her beloved Master, or rather his Dark Mark. Voldemort’s Wraith, passively anchored to Nagini through their familiar bond, stirred at her agitation.

_The rat is one of my servants, dearest,_ it whispered in the recesses of her mind. _You should not kill him; we need him to help us._

When the attacking serpent recoiled from its attack and instead slithered up onto a large flat rock nearby, Peter was relieved. She stared down at Peter as the trembling Wizard tried to calm himself. Both his ‘lizard brain’ and his rat instincts – dominant due to his extensive stay in that form – were pushing him to flee. However, he had a mission, and this serpent was his best lead.

Squaring his shoulders, he bowed towards the serpent. “My Lord, your most unworthy servant has been searching for you so that I may restore you to your full power.”

He was startled when she hissed, and then a dark haze emerged from Nagini’s open mouth. A tendril of the haze reached out, touching his temple as he fought not to flinch or flee the contact.

_Ahhh, Wormtail, my old spy. Ssso you’ve finally decided to do your duty._

Voldemort’s mental voice was as silky and charismatic as it had been when Peter had first declared his allegiance. It was weak and was muffled as if it had to pass through a cloth barrier to reach his mind, but Peter assumed that was due to the circumstances.

_My Lord, your servants back in Britain are hard at work preparing for your return. I was sent to locate you. We have a safe house back home where you can wait for our restoration plan to be executed._

Peter felt his Lord’s amusement and curiosity, before the mental voice spoke once more.

_Very well, I will accept your offer. But first, you must provide me with a host to make my journey more comfortable. Go, fetch me a body, and return. Nagini and I will be waiting._

With that, the tendril retreated back inside of Nagini. Thankful that he had managed the encounter without injury, Peter bowed to the coiled serpent once more. Then he turned on his heel and headed back down the mountain, winding his way through the dense forest.

After making his way into the nearest village, Peter snatched a Muggle bum from the local pub. Given the man’s condition, he was sure that it would take some time before the man’s disappearance was noticed by others. Placing his charge under the _Imperius_ , Peter ordered him home and then followed that up with an order to shower, shave, and dress neatly. Once he was satisfied with the man’s physical condition, he led the former drunk back along his previous trail.

When they reached the clearing where Nagini waited, Peter ordered the Muggle forward. Within moments, the dark haze of Voldemort’s Wraith poured out of Nagini and into the human that stood before her. It seemed like forever and yet no time at all, from Peter’s perspective anyways, before the last wisps of darkness were absorbed.

The former captive’s whole form shivered before it turned and looked at Wormtail. Peter shuddered when he realized that the host’s eyes had taken on a crimson hue, indicative of the Dark Lord’s possession.

“Well, well… Wormtail. Thisss is an unexpected pleasure. Tell me, who are your partnersss in thisss endeavour?”

The sibilant hiss in the host’s voice was another indicator of a successful possession, as the Dark Lord was prone to such vocal tics.

 Speaking quickly, Wormtail reported in full to his Master.

Given that he was in a Muggle host, the Dark Lord was unable to cast any active spells at this stage. However, he was perfectly capable of travelling and giving orders. With Peter providing the ‘muscle’, the triad – Wormtail, Nagini, and the Wraith in his rapidly failing host – made their way into Britain. From there they were established at the safe house that Mouse had arranged within a couple of days of their arrival.

With Peter stuck as a reluctant partner, the next phase of the plan, which Mouse had designed and the Dark Lord refined, began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: The first three chapters of the ‘Appendices’ are up.  
> In the first chapter, I’ve built a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.
> 
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.
> 
> In the third chapter, I’ve compiled a timeline for the Obscure Guardian series. It currently only covers up through this chapter of Irregular Homecomings, but I’ll update it as further chapters are added. The timeline includes an overview of Hogwarts events from 1991-1994, which are occasionally referenced in the story by various characters but not laid out in detail.


	5. School Rivalries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Tri-Wizard Tournament competition begins, many of the Clan’s younger members are reunited.  
> POV Character – Rolf Scamander. British Wizard, Senior Durmstrang student, Grandson of Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein, and thus Harry Potter’s cousin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... we've arrived at Hogwarts!  
> Note, I don't really speak any language other than English, so Google translate was my friend here and in future chapters.

Breath-taking.

That was the best word that Rolf could come up with to describe the vision that they were passing. The streamlined bubble that encompassed the Durmstrang longboat was transparent. This gave the students, who were stationed on deck to monitor the runic sequences that both maintained the Ward/shield and provided propulsion for the vessel, a unique opportunity.

They were able to observe the underwater ecosystem of the Black Lake as they passed through its depths. It was a Magizoologist’s dream come true, and Rolf was going to embrace every minute.

From his position near the prow of the boat, Rolf had caught a glimpse earlier of a Mer village some distance from their route. Now, however, his attention was focused on something much closer: the Giant Squid. He had heard stories from his cousins about the creature that inhabited the lake, but seeing it ‘up close and personal’ was so much better.

_I wonder…_

_Is it a representative of some previously unseen magical creature or is it a once off, the result of a long ago magical experiment? If the first, what other magical talents might the creature possess? If the second, is the difference between the ‘Giant Squid’ and the mundane varieties of fresh-water squid limited to its enormous size or are there other differences? If so, what are those differences?_

_Maybe I can convince Professor Swenson to let me use the Giant Squid of the Black Lake as a part of my Thesis on ‘Arctic and Sub Arctic Magical Beasts of Northern Europe’._

Rolf’s thoughts continued to race even as the boat passed the bulk of the Giant Squid. It swam on a nearly parallel track to the boat on the vessel’s starboard side. When Rolf’s position passed the beast’s single visible eye, he was thrilled to note that it was noticeably tracking the vessel. It didn’t appear disturbed enough to trigger a fight or flight response. Almost involuntarily, he waved at the unblinking eye and watched its pupil dilate slightly as it reacted to the motion.

 

Shortly after they put the Giant Squid behind them, Rolf noticed that the quality of the light from above their bubble had begun to change. Looking ahead, he could see that the gradual rise of the lakebed was bringing their ship and its enclosure closer to the surface.

Eventually the water above the bubble began to roil as its volume shrunk until finally, the highest point pierced the surface. Herr Schmidt and Dimitri Lukayenko, stationed in the ‘crow’s nest’, called down, saying: “Замъкът напред.” [‘Castle ahead’, **Bulgarian** , translation via Google Translate]

Rolf and the others placed simple _impervious_ charms on each other, protecting themselves from the spray as the longboat completed its rise and settled into place near the lakeshore with a splash.

“позиции,” [‘Positions’, **Bulgarian** , translation via Google Translate] ordered Headmaster Karkaroff, and everyone scrambled from their travel positions to form two straight lines, arranged in order of social ranking. All of them, the girls especially, straightened creases and generally dispelled the inevitable rumpling caused by travel. At the same time, Headmaster Karkaroff – from his position at the front of the parade – and Herr Schmidt – positioned at the rear – extended the boat’s landing ramp out to the shore.

From her place beside Rolf, Ingrid rolled her eyes when she saw the Headmaster pull Viktor to the front of the line beside him. Most of the time the Krum Scion was mid-ranked at best, but the events of the Quidditch World Cup earlier that year pushed him temporarily to the tip of the wand. The Headmaster was determined to use Viktor’s fame in his ongoing battle of one-upmanship with the other school heads.

Of course, both twins knew that Viktor hated the fame. He was a Professional Quidditch player because of his love of the sport, not because of the attention it gave him. Still, complying with Headmaster Karkaroff’s wishes wasn’t the worst that he’d ever had to do for the publicity side of his career.

Dressed in formal crimson robes and furs, the Durmstrang students looked warm and martial in comparison to the crowd from Hogwarts. Scanning the assembly, Rolf managed to spot various family, friends, and acquaintances.

There, in Slytherin green and silver, stood Draco; hiding both his excitement and shivers from the cold behind his well-trained public mask.

Little cousin Hannah Abbott stood strong in her group of Hufflepuffs; her werewolf metabolism meaning that her body burned hotter than her peers. She had a couple of her friends, including the redheaded Susan Bones, who Rolf had met at the Quidditch World Cup, tucked in next to her. They were taking advantage of the extra warmth that she exuded. As was her two years younger brother, who had taken position directly in front of her. He was clearly leaning back to enjoy the heat radiating from her body.

Off to one side, in accents of blue and bronze, Ant gave him a nod before going back to the book that he’d smuggled out and was reading with his friend Terry Boot. Rolf sighed at that, unsurprised. He knew that the bookworm would rather have stayed indoors rather than be stuck in the cold. Not that Rolf blamed him. Who knew how long the Hogwarts students had been standing out there, waiting.

Another Ravenclaw standing near his cousin caught his eye. Luna. The tiny blonde was staring off at something out of sight behind Rolf, and he was surprised to notice that instead of blue or bronze, her mittens were a brilliant scarlet.

 _Must be a loan from a friend,_ he thought. He also caught glimpses of odd-looking earrings winking at him through the curtain of her hair. _Were those live fairies perched on the hoops?_

 Luna caught him staring, and gave a little wave, showing off her mittens. He quirked a single eyebrow at her, smirking, and she just smiled wider. One of the other girls nearby poked her, hissing a whisper. He assumed that it was about who she was waving at in the Durmstrang group.

Finally, he glanced over at the Gryffindors. In a clump, he spotted the group who he had met with Luna at the Cup. Rolf wondered if the redheads’ father managed to find any trace of the rat after their failure to capture it in the aftermath of the disaster in August.

_Ingrid will want to chat with the Longbottom Heir, among others. Even as just a Proxy and Regent for her underage grandson, Madame Longbottom has been a key ally of Mother’s and Ingrid will want to continue that relationship with the next generation. Also, I overheard Hannah and her friend Susan talking about the boy in our box at the Cup. Apparently, he didn’t treat her any different after he learned her new secret. I wonder if they were considering a match before the incident._

Before Rolf could continue observing and musing, his attention was drawn to his Headmaster. The oily git had apparently finished his greeting and conversation with Hogwarts’ Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and had gestured for the group to make their way inside. It seemed that the next phase of the event was to occur indoors.

_Thank Merlin!_

 

From his seat near the end of what was apparently the Slytherin table, Rolf watched the dynamics of their new ‘home’ for the next several months. An observer by nature, he was happy to sit back and watch as the Hogwarts students and faculty tried to balance making a good first impression with various internal tensions in place after two months of school.

His observations were disrupted when the Slytherin seated directly across from him leaned over the table. “So, what are you thinking so hard about, Scamander? Hoping to be chosen for the tournament?”

Rolf recognized Adrian Pucey, a sharp young British Scion about his age. He knew the other teen through his father, Wilhelm. Pucey’s father was a barrister at the same firm as Wilhelm. Pucey senior was one of the firm’s partners, one who Wilhelm called when he had clients who needed a barrister as well as a solicitor. While Rolf and Pucey weren’t close friends, they had been thrown together often enough that Pucey felt comfortable initiating a conversation.  

“Nope. I’m just here to support Ingrid. She’s the candidate. You see, our Headmaster arranged for each of our potential champions to be accompanied by another student as a companion; a sibling, friend, or partner.”

“Not up to the challenge, huh? I should have known you weren’t a strong enough Wizard to handle it.” While Pucey was teasing, there was a bit of a bite to his words.

“Actually, the benefits of winning the Tournament aren’t of interest to me. After all, Papa Newt has been a great success; that is despite his less than stellar academic track record,” Rolf said diffidently. He knew that the best approach to dealing with this kind of conversation was to avoid having a visible response. Pucey was just poking at him to try to find his weaknesses, well Mother and Ingrid had long ago taught Rolf better than to openly react to such prods. 

“Oh, right, you’re following after that side of the family,” Pucey said, unperturbed by his failure to get a rise out of Rolf. “I’m going to go for it, myself. I could use the prize money, and the attention couldn’t hurt.” He leaned back and resumed his earlier conversation with his neighbour, once again ignoring Rolf.

Distracted by his conversation, Rolf hadn’t noticed his sister getting up from her seat further down the Slytherin table.

But now she drew his attention. She had walked over to the Ravenclaw table, apparently to visit her cousin Ant. Along the way she stopped to chat with Luna, who had a clear gap between her seat and the nearest Hogwarts student. Apparently, the bullying that Ant mentioned some of the girls in his House were doing to the spacey blonde included shunning… joy. Ingrid, in her usual aggressive manner, had just blocked the bullies in one simple move.

She made the bullies jealous, and showed the rest of Hogwarts that she didn’t approve. Ingrid’s statement was reinforced when two girls from the Beauxbatons delegation came over and joined the conversation. The older Witch smiled at Ingrid as she sat down, while the younger girl, who looked even younger than Hogwarts first years, was babbling at a thrilled Luna.

 _I guess that Ingrid has decided to make Luna this year’s project,_ Rolf thought wryly. His sister liked to flex her skills at ‘wrangling’, as she called her training in political manipulation, by helping one of the younger students at Durmstrang who was having social difficulties. It looked like she was branching out this year, not that the remarkable child didn’t deserve it.

_I’m pretty sure that Luna is like Auntie Queenie, except with emotions instead of thoughts._

Rolf caught Ant’s eye and gestured towards the girls and Ant shrugged and gave a small smile. He clearly understood Ingrid’s statement, and was, in his quiet way, showing his approval. Ant did gesture toward the Gryffindor table, where Luna’s friends from the World Cup were watching Ingrid and the others closely. Clearly, if Ingrid wanted to claim Luna as her project, she would have to incorporate the others in her planning. Rolf doubted that would be a problem for his ambitious twin.

Still, he ought to do his part to support both Ingrid and little Luna.

“Hey Pucey,” Rolf asked his tablemate. “What’s Hogwarts policy about House tables? Do you have to sit at your table every meal?”

“Nah, just for special meals, like this one. Unofficial protocol also encourages House loyal seating at dinners, but we tend to mix during the other meals. Why?”

“Oh, just wondering about sitting with my little cousin over at Ravenclaw, like Ingrid apparently decided to do tonight.”

Adrian’s gaze swung around, quickly spotting the splash of crimson in the midst of Hogwarts black and Beauxbatons blue. “Isn’t your cousin the Goldstein kid? It looks like she’s over with Loony.”

“I guess she found a better offer… and Loony? Seriously, Pucey, that’s just uncouth.” Rolf raised one eyebrow at the other senior student. “You know, Lovegood’s father is a colleague of Papa – my grandfather Newt Scamander, that is – as was her mother before her accident. Sure, the girl’s a little odd, but given the messy affair with poor Pandora Lovegood, it’s hardly a surprise. You know that our fathers represented the family in the suits, right?”

Shocked at Rolf’s passionate defence of a little girl that most of Hogwarts saw as nothing more than a weird child, a perfect target for practicing jabs, it took Pucey a moment to register what he’d said. When the association finally registered, the Wizard winced. His father would be furious if he found out about Adrian’s failures with the Lovegood Heiress.

Now that Rolf had jostled his memory, Adrian’s brain finally linked the odd little witch child to his father’s tales of the Quibbler. For discerning Witches and Wizards, the Quibbler acted as Britain’s free press, often using code to spread information that the Ministry was unwilling to officially release. The sour twist of his mouth assured Rolf that his message had been received.

Adrian would deal with the Slytherins.

“As visitors, you have more leeway about seating as visitors than we do,” was the extent of Pucey’s verbal response to Rolf’s sally. “So _Mademoiselle Ingrid_ is probably just fine where she is.”

 

Despite the fact that the 31st of October, 1994 was a Monday, the faculty of the various schools had decided to give their students a day free from classes to mingle and for those who so desired to submit their ‘applications’ to the Goblet. Sure, the actual submissions didn’t take long, but still, it could be stressful for the students. Besides, Headmaster Dumbledore and his staff were well aware that at least some of their younger students would be trying to submit their names regardless of the rules against it.

Though the expanded Wizarding space in the longboat included dorms and a few classrooms, Rolf and the other Durmstrang students still had to make their way up to the castle regularly. Their meals were served there, and they were borrowing classrooms for some of their classes, those that had specialized requirements.

For example, Professor Snape had designated one of his Potions classrooms in the Hogwarts dungeons for the visitors’ use. As any good potions master would know, brewing advanced potions required a very specific set up. It needed to be extremely stable in its environment, with Wards in place to block any wild magic from entering the space. Beyond the brewing space itself, most potions labs had an attached storeroom. Even if a brewer brought the main ingredients needed for the potion they were planning to create, there was always the possibility that something would additional might be required.

Obviously, trying to set up such a complex and extensive facility inside the limited expanse of the Durmstrang longboat wasn’t a realistic proposition.

Professors Sprout – Herbology – and Sinistra – Astronomy – also offered spaces in the Hogwarts greenhouses and tower for the visitors’ use, though in those cases it made more sense for the professors to offer times when the facilities were open for use rather than trying to set up a separate facility. For students like Rolf who were studying Magical Creatures, the Hogwarts Headmaster had given them special permission to explore Hogwarts castle and grounds as a part of their studies. Hagrid, the massive Wizard in charge of the Hogwarts grounds and Magical Creature program, had even offered interested students limited access to Hogwarts’ Forbidden forest, which was said to be a unique Magical ecosystem worth study.

Of course, Rolf’s current obsession – the Giant Squid - was included in this access. Thus, Rolf was taking advantage of the free day and his access to conduct his first observation session with the Giant Squid.

For the session, he was using his especially charmed pair of Omnioculars. Modified to perfectly match his ocular range and capture images of Magical Creature sightings, even at a distance or under less than ideal conditions, they were his most prized possession. Of course, the since many students were out on the grounds for the afternoon, it made Rolf’s choice of observation focus obvious. He was going to observe and track the Giant Squid’s preferences in handling humans when they visited the edge of his territory, the waterfront.

Rolf was so focused on the Squid’s apparent ‘waving’ at the group of first year students, that he failed to notice someone approaching until they were right on top of him.

“Merlin, you startled me,” he gasped, clutching his Omnioculars, as his visitor’s shadow alerted him to their presence. “So, what can I do for you good sir?”

“I would have thought your Great Uncle taught you better,” was his new companion’s response, its tone gruff. “Constant Vigilance, lad.”

“Ah, you must be Alastor Moody then; I’ve heard plenty of stories about you before,” Rolf replied as he turned toward the voice. A short distance from him stood the peg legged, grizzled form of the former Auror. “Uncle Zeus and the others speak highly for your skills, even if they don’t agree with some of your politics. And how do you know I’m not protected?”

“Yer wand is nowhere to be seen, lad, and ye just said I startled ye.”

“Yes, but, that doesn’t mean I’m not protected.” Rolf reached down and picked up a smooth stone from near his feet. As he did so, the Ward inscribed on it became visible for a second, manifesting as a shining golden shield around Rolf, before it vanished and the rock looked perfectly ordinary once again.

“Family secret, how that works,” Rolf commented as he pocketed the stone. “See, our family has enough current and former Aurors and an equal number of easily distracted scientists. So, as a compromise, we’ve developed that little beauty. It lets me focus on my work without worrying about tuning out my surroundings. Papa Newt was absolutely ecstatic when Grandfather Percy and Gran Tina gave him the first iteration of it.”

“Looks like a beautiful piece o’ work, lad,” Moody agreed. He was obviously processing the additional information that his Magical eye had given him when the Ward deactivated. “No surprise there, given the designers. Percival Graves and Tina Goldstein are legends in the international magical law enforcement community.”

“And not just them,” Rolf agreed. “It’s family tradition for each member to try and add at least one improvement to the design during their advanced studies. I’ve already started working on mine, though it’s still just a few rough ideas.”

“Right then, lad, I’ll leave ye to get back to whatever it was that ye were doin’.”

The man’s tongue flicked out of his closed mouth for a moment, and then Moody stomped off, leaving Rolf behind a bit befuddled. He would have thought that the man, who had been one of his Great Uncle’s protégés, would have already been aware of the Gramander Ward stones. Then, he shrugged; maybe it was a test. After all, the man was legendary for his paranoia. He was even worse than Uncle Zeus, which was saying something.

Still he gave Rolf the shudders. There was something – not right – about how he’d been staring at Rolf. It was just a bit too… predatory.

 

 That evening, after another elaborate dinner – the Halloween Feast, apparently – all the students and staff were gathered in the Hogwarts Great Hall to witness the Goblet of Fire’s declaration of the champions. To Rolf’s surprise and pleasure, his sister’s ‘support squad’ included not only himself, but also several of the Hogwarts cousins and their friends. When he asked why they were there, Draco smirked and Ant just looked at him muttering something about Ingrid being the closest they were likely to get to being champions.

When the blue flames in the Goblet of Fire turned red, the murmurs of conversation in the various groups of students quieted. Mere moments later, a scorched piece of parchment shot out of the Goblet, to be caught easily by the Hogwarts Headmaster. With a crinkling of parchment, he unfolded it and with great solemnity, he intoned. “The Champion for Durmstrang Institute is… Viktor Krum.”

The crowd gathered around the Quidditch star, which included an unsurprisingly large number of the Hogwarts students, erupted in cheers. Ingrid remained impassive, the only sign of her disappointment being the relaxing of her shoulders from the sharp posture that she had been holding. “Wonder what criteria the Goblet used, huh,” Rolf whispered, “popular acclaim?”

Ingrid gave a low snort, not disagreeing. “Krum has enough skill to make a decent showing, at least.” She responded. “And his pre-existing fame is good for the school’s reputation.”

They were distracted from their whispered conversation by the flames going red once more.

A second scorched parchment shot out of the Goblet, and was once again gracefully caught by the brightly robed Headmaster. “The Champion for Beauxbatons Academy is… Fleur Delacour.”

As a graceful blonde with pale, waist-long hair moved forward to claim her place; Ingrid turned to her twin. “That’s interesting. I suppose that Delacour’s father Philippe’s position as the current ‘Ministre Français de la Magie’, gives her status comparative to Krum’s. It’ll be interesting to see if that and her clear Veela ancestry are matched to enough skill to make her a reasonable competitor.”

Then she looked over at the rest of the Beauxbatons group and snorted. “Seems that some of her competition really isn’t pleased at her selection,” Ingrid said as she gestured towards the sobbing teens. “I would have thought that the school’s excellent Comportment and Diplomacy program would have taught them better.”

Once again, red flames interrupted them. This time, Rolf was amused to watch the play of micro expressions that crossed Headmaster Dumbledore’s face as he read the parchment. Clearly, the choice wasn’t the man’s favourite, but not someone who he actively disliked either.

“The Champion for Hogwarts School is…” The pause was noticeably longer this time. “Cedric Diggory.”

A squeak, followed by a surprisingly loud cheer, sounded from off to Rolf’s right, echoed by many others around the room. “Well, that really is a surprise,” Ingrid huffed. “The Diggorys are relative nobodies in British politics, a minor merchant House. I believe that Cedric’s father… Amos, I think… is a mid-level bureaucrat in the Ministry and his mother isn’t from any of the major Houses either. Still, he certainly seems to be popular with his peers.”

Draco leaned over from his group of Slytherins to add, “He’s the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker, plus it’s rare for any member of that House to win acclaim, you know.” They all snorted, knowing some very successful former Hufflepuffs. Former ‘Puffs usually pursued careers that did not generate public interest, and they were also less likely than other houses to proclaim their Hogwarts affiliation. Papa was an exception, and to be fair, his fame had come despite his choice of career instead of because of it.

“Well, it seems that none of the competitors have strong claims to our loyalty, don’t know if that makes things more or less fun.” Rolf commented.

At that point, groups of students had separated from their original places and started mingling, comparing notes about the now formally selected Champions. The noise level in the Hall was starting to build when suddenly the Goblet of Fire shot up red flames once again, this time much higher than the previous three times. The parchment that shot out was much more thoroughly scorched, almost blackened, and when Headmaster Dumbledore opened it, he blanched for a second before regaining his composure.

“It seems that we have an unprecedented fourth champion. This Champion, who is not matched to any particular school, is… Harry Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: The first three chapters of the ‘Appendices’ have been up for a while, and the fourth chapter just went up.  
> In the first chapter, I’ve built a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.  
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.  
> In the third chapter, I’ve compiled a timeline for the Obscure Guardian series. It currently only covers up through this chapter of Irregular Homecomings, but I’ll update it as further chapters are added. The timeline includes an overview of Hogwarts events from 1991-1994, which are occasionally referenced in the story by various characters but not laid out in detail. 
> 
> The fourth chapter is the first in a series of biographical sketches, covering the major characters of the series. The chapter features biographies for each of the three members of the Gramander Triad: Newt Scamander, Percival Graves, and Tina Goldstein.


	6. Ministry Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-reaching consequences of the surprises during the Tri-Wizard Champion selection are addressed, bringing more than one British expatriate back to the Island.  
> POV Character – Cornelius Fudge. British Wizard and the Kingdom of Albion’s current Minister of Magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve seen Fudge the incompetent through his adversaries' eyes, so I thought it would be an interesting contrast to see how the man actually is, compared to the other characters’ perceptions. Fudge is not a complete idiot; he’s actually quite clever in his own way…

* * *

Daily Prophet

November 1st, 1994

* * *

 

 

> **_HARRY POTTER NAMED FOURTH CHAMPION!_ **
> 
> _Last night, the ceremony opening the first Tri-Wizard Tournament since the infamous disaster of the 1792 Tournament, when a rampaging cockatrice lay waste to the judges and audience instead of the competitors._
> 
> _Well, gentle readers; it seems that the 1994 revival may be cursed with the same bad luck. While the ceremony was closed to the public, my sources tell me that after the three champions (Viktor Krum, Durmstrang; Fleur Delacour, Beauxbatons; Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts) were named, a fourth champion’s name appeared._
> 
> _The name: none other than our own boy saviour and missing child, Harry Potter._
> 
> _Now, you may be asking, how can there be a fourth champion in the TRI-Wizard Tournament? I must confess that I myself am similarly confused. None the less, it seems that the Tournament Judges are determined to move forward. Judge and Tournament Organizer, Department Chair for International Magical Cooperation, Burt Crouch, Senior, is calling for “whoever has the boy to send him to Hogwarts immediately. If the child fails to participate in the challenges, he could end up dead or without his magic as penalty for violating a binding Magical Contract.”_
> 
> _I encourage you gentle readers, if you have any information about our missing saviour, please contact us here at the Prophet. The boy-who-lived must be saved from such a horrible fate._
> 
> _I will continue to follow this story closely, and bring you the latest updates as I learn them._
> 
> _\- Rita Skeeter, Correspondent_
> 
> _For more on the Tri-Wizard Tournament, including details on each of the Champions, see P2. For more on Harry Potter, see P3._
> 
>  

* * *

 

 

“Oh dear, oh dear,” murmured Cornelius Fudge, British Minister of Magic, as he folded the paper and took a sip of his first cup of tea for the work day. “This will certainly not do, not do at all. The Tournament was supposed to boost public opinion, not remind people of one of our most infamous open cases.”

He rang the bell set on the corner of his desk, which was connected to an identical one on his Senior Undersecretary’s desk. Within moments, his door was opened by that singularly hideous example of a witch, Dolores Umbridge. From her vomit inducing pink robes, to her odd black bow, bulbous eyes, and wide mouth, Cornelius always gagged a little when he first spotted her. Still, she was incredibly loyal and useful. The witch was particularly good at taking care of things that he couldn’t be publically connected to.

“You rang for me, Minister,” she simpered, oblivious to his wince, she was not aware of his poor opinion of her appearance.

“Yes. Dolores, fetch me all the files we have on Harry Potter. I need to know everything.”

She frowned. “Shall I call the DMLE; I believe they have lead on that investigation?”

“No… not yet. I need facts, Dolores. Information. I have to make a plan before any official meetings can occur. Skeeter’s column is already bad enough; I just can’t risk further damage.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll take care of that right away.”

“Good. Oh, but go ahead get me a meeting with Crouch. I need a full report on what happened at Hogwarts last night.”

She disappeared around the door, shutting it behind her. Shortly thereafter, a file dropped into place in his inbox. Glancing at the cover, Cornelius was pleased to recognize the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) seal. Amelia Bones may be a Merlin-damned pain in his arse, but she was certainly efficient and thorough at her job.

“Let’s see…” he mused as he flipped through the pages in the file. “Inquest into the disappearance of one Harry Potter, age eleven. Initiated after concerned citizens,” – _political backers,_ – “reported his failure to arrive at Hogwarts for his first year.”

“A search of Ministry records provided no answers. The latest address found in his file was the old Potter estate, which had been destroyed during the War. In addition, the Magical Guardian of record was still listed as James Potter.”

On the next page was a letter, a copy of one found in the young Potter’s Ministry file. It was written by Albus Dumbledore and dated November 1981. In it, the letter stated that the older Wizard had claimed Magical Guardianship of the boy saviour as he had ‘promised the boy’s parents he would’.

Attached to the letter was a note, which explained that while there had been an attempt to modify the Potter boy’s file in accordance with the letter from Dumbledore, the Magical parchment had failed to accept the change. This indicated that some yet to be identified Guardian had a prior claim to the position which superseded the Headmaster’s request. The writer speculated that it might be Sirius Black, in which case the problem could be corrected once the man’s trial paperwork was filed. A comment in a different hand mentioned that when they checked during the more recent search, the correction again failed.

“Interesting…” Cornelius mused. He could recall Dumbledore frequently using his positon as ‘the-boy-who-lived’s Guardian to gain support for his political agenda. “This might be useful.”

After all, the man had grown far-too-influential and was often found causing problems for the Ministry these days. Cornelius pushed aside the thought that he himself was part of the reason the old manipulator had such power in the Ministry. During the early days of his tenure as Minister, Cornelius had frequently sought out the older Wizard, looking for advice from an experienced source.

Cornelius turned back to the file. The main page continued: “… checks with the Department for the Improper Use of Magic proved of little use. The latest (only) recorded incident of accidental magic in their file on the Potter child was the one from THAT night, the location matched to Godric’s Hollow.”

Again, Cornelius flipped to one of the file’s supplemental pages. This one was an interview report.

 

* * *

 

 

TRANSCRIPT

> Interview with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
> 
> Date: September 8th, 1991
> 
> Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
> 
> Interviewer: Alastor ‘Mad-eye’ Moody, Senior Auror

 

> AM: Good Afternoon, Headmaster
> 
> APWBD: How are you, Alastor?
> 
> AM: Fine, thank ye, Albus. Now, I am here as part of the DMLE investigation into the alleged disappearance of one Harry James Potter. I understand from our records that you are the child in question’s guardian. What can yeh tell me about the affair?
> 
> APWBD: My dear boy, I am afraid that there is little detail I can provide your investigation beyond a confirmation that the poor child was indeed taken by persons unknown. I only recently learned of his disappearance myself.
> 
> AM: And how did ye learn that the child was missing?
> 
> APWBD: As you are no doubt aware, in the aftermath of his defeat of [YOU-KNOW-WHO] I feared for the boy’s safety, especially if the public were to be made aware of his location. After careful consideration, I placed him in a safe house, with caretakers and guardians to keep me up to date on his condition. I had intended to have him retrieved when the time came for young Harry to attend Hogwarts.
> 
> AM: I assume, then, that something went wrong.
> 
> APWBD: Indeed it did, my old friend. I had been receiving regular updates from my contacts since the child was first placed in that location. However, when I had his Hogwarts invitation letter sent, we had a startling discovery. It turned out that several years before, a person or persons unknown managed to find the boy, despite my precautions. From what I have been able to learn, the kidnappers ambushed the boy’s caretakers. They claimed the boy, and then cursed the guardians. Not only were they _Obliviated_ of any memory of the kidnappers, but the boy was also replaced with a doppelganger. The watchers were then _confounded_ to believe that the double was the person who they were to guard and report to me regarding.
> 
> AM: I take it that the Hogwarts invitation for the Potter boy failed to arrive at the safe house.
> 
> APWBD: Correct again. Upon careful inspection the true identity of the doppelganger, a squib of some relation to the Potter child who possessed enough magic to provide a reasonable facsimile, was discovered. Unfortunately, while we haven’t been able to identify exactly when the swap was occurred we do know it was at least several years ago. This meant that there weren’t any residual Magical traces for us to use to identify the kidnappers.
> 
> AM: Shame that, Albus. Do ye have anything else to share that might be relevant to my investigation?
> 
> APWBD: Sadly, no, Alastor. I have already reached out to my contacts but have had no luck. I had hoped that perhaps the kidnappers would send young Harry to Hogwarts under a disguise or another name, but none of the arriving first years matched his appearance or magic. I fear that even if he does still live, it may be far too late for his safe return.
> 
> AM: Too True.
> 
> APWBD: Best of luck in your hunt, old friend. Please keep me informed of the progress of the investigation.
> 
> AM: Of course.

END OF TRANSCRIPT

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he finished reading that document, Cornelius was fuming. The tone of the entire thing was far too solicitous to the old man. After all, the Wizard had lost the boy saviour. But no, apparently Dumbledore could do no wrong.

The rest of the file was pretty bland. There were references to the department’s ongoing search for the boy, including the Daily Prophet advertisements, posters in Wizarding areas, and regular checks with the local lowlifes for any possible sightings. There was a brief comment that intrigued Cornelius:

“Upon checking with the Gringotts Goblins, we were able to confirm that the child still lived. The Goblin we interviewed stated that those accessing his account had the proper authorization, but refused to provide any further information, citing the terms of the most recent Goblin treaty with the Ministry when we tried to probe further.”

_Ah, Goblin neutrality. While it is generally useful, it can also be a Morgana-blessed pain at times._

One final, offhand note at the bottom of the main file, clearly added by another Auror reviewing the case, made Cornelius blanch.

“Possible connection, ref. Sirius Black?”

He had forgotten the escaped convict’s connection to the Potters. Still, the link was tenuous, at best.

Fudge was still processing the information that he’d read when he heard a knock at his door.

“Minister,” a voice called in a childish voice. “Mister Crouch is here, as requested.”

“Ah, excellent. Send him in.”

 

...

 

It was several days later when Cornelius Fudge finally got some real news about the Potter boy. He had arranged an advertisement in the Daily Prophet the day after the news came out, calling for the boy’s kidnappers to return him to the Ministry for his protection. In an effort to encourage this action, he had promised that there would be no prosecution for kidnapping charges as long as the boy was found unharmed.

The general British Wizarding Public agreed, calling for the boy’s return to compete in the Tournament. Unspoken was the hope that the boy would be able to defend the community again if the incidents at the Quidditch World Cup back in August led to something more serious.

On that particular day, Cornelius had received a letter via owl from his old friend Lucius Malfoy. In it, the Malfoy Lord requested a meeting with the Minister ‘regarding the Potter affair’. While the Wizards were no longer the close allies they had been at the beginning of Cornelius’ term of office, meeting with Lucius was still a welcome treat.

“Lucius, always a pleasure,” he stood, came out from behind his desk, and reached out to offer his hand as the pale haired lord was escorted into his office. He gestured towards a pair of comfortable wingback chairs that stood in one corner of the room. “Shall we?”

When they were seated, had exchanged pleasantries, and one of the Ministry house-elves had delivered tea, the pair got down to business.

“Now then,” Cornelius said, setting down his cup. “What can the Ministry do for you, Lord Malfoy?”

“It’s rather a matter of what I can do for you, on this occasion, Minister,” was Lucius’ smooth reply.

“Really?” Cornelius responded, surprised and pleased. This was an unusual state of affairs.

“Yes. My international contacts have brought me news on the teen that you seek so assiduously.”

“The Potter boy?”

“The same.”

“Tell me,” Cornelius exclaimed, leaning forward. This was the first real news that he’d heard on the subject.

“I’ve heard rumours that the boy is living in America, and is, in fact, a student at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under an assumed name.”

“I… see…” Cornelius’ mind whirled, trying to calculate the implications.

“Indeed. My contacts in their version of the DMLE tell me that the boy has legal status over there, so trying to drag him back could cause a significant incident. However,” and here Lucius hesitated, until Cornelius urged him to continue.

“Principal Graves, the Ilvermorny Headmaster, is rumoured to be quite ambitious. She is said to be aggressive in her efforts to get her school recognized at the same level as Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. I believe that if we offer young Potter the option of competing in the Tournament under her school’s banner, we might be able to gain the leverage needed to bring him over here legally.”

“…and once on British soil…” Cornelius continued.

“Precisely. We must tread cautiously, though. We still have no idea who exactly took the boy, and which of the Wizarding families over there might have built alliances with the boy and his kidnappers.”

“An excellent point, Lord Malfoy. I am indeed in your debt in this matter.”

“It was no trouble at all, Minister. After all, my own son, Draco, is the same age as the Potter boy and would be more than happy to shepherd a new arrival around the school.”

Cornelius nodded in recognition of his old ally’s motivation. He could appreciate a good scheme, especially one that helped them both. 

Lucius climbed to his feet in preparation to head out. “I believe that you will be quite busy handling this matter, Minister, so I will take my leave. Best wishes to your wife and family.”

“Yours as well,” Cornelius said almost absently, his mind already awhirl with his new task. He barely noticed when Lucius left; he was already caught up in making plans.

“Dolores,” he called his secretary, as she finished escorting the Malfoy Lord out of the office.

“Yes, Minister?”

“Set up a meeting with Crouch and Bones. Tell them it is in regards to the Potter boy. Oh, and tell Crouch to bring everything he knows about our current relations with MACUSA.”

“Yes, Minister. Anything else?” Cornelius hid a wince as she attempted to flirt with him. How she thought that was attractive, he would never understand.

“NO! That is, no thank you, Dolores.”

 

...

 

“MACUSA, Minister?” were the first words out of the Bones woman’s mouth when she entered his office and saw not just Cornelius and Crouch, but also Daniel Parkinson.

“Ah, I take it you know Mister Parkinson, then?”

“Only through work, Minister. There has been a great deal of correspondence through his office for my department of late.”

“Really? How so?”

“Peculiar thing, really. They’re apparently concerned about someone over there following in the footsteps of You-Know-Who. I’ve been in correspondence with their Director of Magical Security, my counterpart, regarding all known Death Eaters and their practices during the war off and on for the better part of a decade. Director Goldstein, and later her successor Director Nightshade, send communication through Mister Parkinson’s office.”

“I see. Perhaps it is related to the matter I’ve called you here to discuss.”

“And what is that, Fudge, I’m quite busy these days, with the Tournament and all that.” Crouch was brusque and dismissive despite speaking to his superior. Cornelius knew that part of it was sour grapes about Crouch’s career taking a rather impressive nose-dive after the revelations regarding to his son’s role in the War. He couldn’t imagine how bad things would be if the dour man had ended up as Minister, the fool was causing enough problems in his current position.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Mister Crouch. I was just getting to that. Madame Bones, would you care to take a seat?” Cornelius gestured to the only chair still empty. The woman nodded gracefully and took a seat. Her antipathy for the other Department Chair was apparently greater than her dislike for him, at least for the moment. Cornelius knew that the main reason he still held on to his current seat was that his Department Heads generally despised each other more than they did him.

“I have received word from one of my contacts that Potter child is currently attending Ilvermorny under an assumed name.” Cornelius stated, baldly, wanting to get to the point of the meeting.

The responses his audience gave were curious. Parkinson gasped, Crouch frowned thunderously, and Bones merely hummed, as if his words confirmed a suspicion.

“I suspected that might be the case,” Bones – Amelia – commented, leaning back in her seat, inadvertently showing off her still impressive bust to her male colleagues. “Some of my correspondence hinted towards MACUSA preparing to protect Harry Potter from retaliation by the followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I’m not sure what you expect from me regarding the matter, however.”

“The boy was kidnapped! It is your people’s job to handle such criminal matters!” Cornelius sputtered. He knew that the statement was ridiculous, but he wanted to see how the group would react. Sure enough, Parkinson looked torn, as if he agreed with the sentiment but didn’t want to jeopardize relations with MACUSA. Crouch maintained his thunderous expression and Amelia Bones scrubbed her face with a hand.

Looking up she caught his wry smile, and, recognizing the ploy, responded more seriously than she would normally do in their one-on-one meetings. Over the years, they’d developed a certain amount of mutual respect, even if they disagreed with each other’s politics. It certainly helped that Bones was quite a beautiful Witch, who knew how to present herself. While Cornelius would never admit it in public, he’d had a crush on the Witch when they were both back in Hogwarts, and she’d aged extremely well.

“You’ve seen the files, Minister. Whoever has the Potter child has managed to file all the correct paperwork. On paper, the boy isn’t kidnapped; he’s in hiding for his own protection. This is why the investigation has been stalled for years.”

“What!” Both Parkinson and Crouch were shocked by this declaration.

“Yes, yes, fine, Bones. I was just hoping…”

“I know, Minister. But I’m afraid that my department won’t be a help in this matter.”

Parkinson’s head was on a swivel as the conversation bounced back and forth. He obviously wasn’t used to being in the midst of such high-level discussions.

“Indeed. That is why I requested Mister Crouch and his associate, here. Given public sentiment, I was hoping that perhaps we could arrange for the boy to compete using diplomatic channels. I have it on good authority that Ilvermorny could be lured into participating in the Tournament.”

“Ilvermorny?” The question came from three voices.

“Yes, Ilvermorny. After all, every other Champion is representing a School, why not young Mister Potter?”

Crouch’s thunderous frown was finally disappearing, replaced by a thoughtful look. “Yes… Yes… I believe the Tournament rules could be made to work with that…”

“Do you want me to set up a meeting, then sir?”

“Ah, no, young Parkinson. This is a matter that should be handled at the highest levels. Your job will be research. I need to know everything about MACUSA’s current leadership and their ties to Ilvermorny and its – I believe they call her Principal – Ygraine Graves. Crouch, I know that the Tournament is your baby. Figure out what our leeway is regarding changes to the Tournament structure to accommodate the Americans. And Bones,” he paused for a moment.

“Yes, Minister Fudge?”

“Now that we know the Potter boy is at Ilvermorny, I want you to use your contacts over there to fill in as many gaps as you can in the file. After all, Potter is still a citizen of Albion, and our beloved boy saviour, whatever else he may be.”

With that, all three Ministry employees left Cornelius’ office, though Amelia Bones lingered long enough to give a word of caution. “Be careful, Minister, the Americans can be sensitive regarding their reputation and we can’t afford another international mess after Crouch’s disaster at the Cup.”

“You know me, Bones, always looking out for the Ministry’s best interests.”

She nodded sharply and headed out, sniffing at his pink-garbed Senior Under-Secretary as she did so. While Cornelius himself had found a balance with the dragon-Witch these days, she absolutely despised Umbridge. In his heart, Cornelius couldn’t blame her. Still, needs must. He stiffened his back and turned to her desk.

“Dolores.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“I’ll be making an important call in my office. Make sure that I’m not disturbed until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, Minister.”

Cornelius shut his office door, made his way over to his desk, and took a seat. Reaching into one of the drawers, he withdrew one of several miniatures that were stored there. The linked portraits were the Wizarding World’s equivalent of what his grandchildren had told him were called ‘red phones’, or at least that was what their Muggleborn friends had said. The one in his hand showed the serene countenance of Aquila Prince, Albion’s first Ambassador to the Council of American Magicals, which had been the predecessor to MACUSA. President Gregory Thompson over at MACUSA held its match.

“Madame Prince,” Cornelius did his best to show the decorum that he knew the older Witch’s portrait expected. “I have need for you to pass on a message to President Thompson.”

“And what might that message be?” Her black eyes sharpened as she waited his words. When she’d turned over the office of the Minister, Bagnold had warned him that if the portrait didn’t approve she would refuse to pass on the message.

“Please inform the President that there is a matter of some urgency and delicacy that must be discussed regarding an important citizen of both our nations. If he asks you should tell him that the discussion involves Hogwarts, Ilvermorny, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and a young man named Harry Potter.”

 

...

 

After several days and a great deal of back and forth, Cornelius had finally arranged a meeting between all the appropriate parties. The meeting was to be hosted at the London Headquarters of the British Ministry for Magic, as the initiator of the dialog. Those in attendance were Cornelius, Crouch as the representative of the Tournament committee, the MACUSA President Thompson, Ilvermorny Principal Graves, and a number of staff. Dumbledore had tried to finagle a seat at the table. Cornelius had managed to waylay him by pointing out that if the older Wizard attended then they would have to get the other Headmasters involved, and then add in representatives from the other nations where the schools were located, and on and on…

After all, Cornelius pointed out, Hogwarts and the other schools had already signed on to the Tournament, they would have to abide by the agreements set by the committee chair, Crouch.

 

...

 

Coming out of the Ministry’s International Floo, President Thompson and his entourage swept into the room in a spectacle of golden magnificence. The man himself, intimidatingly tall and bearing an impressive carriage with his suit and robes of rich golden brown hues, was guarded and escorted by a pair of impassive Aurors in black. Behind him strode an interesting trio. The first, white haired and dignified, was presumably Principal Graves. On her arm was a younger man who looked vaguely familiar to Cornelius. Oh, yes, that was Isaac Goldstein, Parkinson’s near-counterpart over at MACUSA and a former Ministry employee. The third of the trio, a young woman dressed in pale blue and carrying a satchel that looked to be full of files, Cornelius dismissed as a secretary or something similar.

Eyeing the delegation, Cornelius was happy that he’d made special effort to put the Ministry’s best face forward. While he couldn’t do much about Crouch, the man was at least decently put together in formal robes. Cornelius himself was robed in his favourite green pinstripes, referencing his Slytherin pride. He’d arranged with Madame Bones to have the Auror in charge of the Potter case, the old lion, Scrimgeour, in attendance. That Wizard knew how to play politics and could act as a bodyguard if needed. Like Thompson, he’d brought in his expert on the ‘opposition’, assigning Parkinson the task of scribe for the meeting. The young Wizard had done an excellent job in the lead up to the meeting, and Cornelius was planning to keep an eye on him for the future. Crouch had also brought along his own assistant, a fumbling young redhead in cheap robes, but Cornelius dismissed the boy from his thoughts almost instantly.

“Welcome to Albion, President Thompson,” Cornelius said, offering his hand. “It’s wonderful to see you again, though I wish it wasn’t under such controversial circumstances.”

“I quite agree,” Thompson replied as he gave his counterpart’s hand a brisk shake. “Allow me to introduce one of my close friends, Ygraine Graves.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Cornelius replied, placing a kiss on the elderly Witch’s extended hand rather than shaking it. He offered his arm. “May I have the privilege of escorting you to our meeting room?”

“Of course, young man. It is most kind of you to offer.” Her queenly dignity reminded Cornelius of the first time he met his future mother-in-law or one of the High Society Matriarchs like Drusilla Black nee Rosier. They exuded class and encouraged polite behaviour by their mere presence. He knew immediately that she was the person to impress in this meeting.

They exchanged polite niceties as they walked, the trio of authorities trailed by their lower ranked colleagues. Behind him, Cornelius noticed Scrimgeour and Goldstein exchanging polite greetings. Apparently, they were already acquainted.

“…of course, even if negotiations work out, I will not be part of Ilvermorny’s delegation.” Madame Graves was saying. “Unlike the other Schools’ leads I did not have the extensive notice to arrange an absence of such a great duration. My cousin, Percival, has already agreed to act as Ilvermorny’s judge, instead. He teaches part-time at the school, being mostly retired these days, so it is easier for him to arrange the time away.”

“Percival?”

“Yes, Percival Graves, one of MACUSA’s former Directors of Magical Security. I believe he is most well-known in these parts for his work in the Grindelwald mess.”

“Of course.”

Before the discussion could continue, they reached the doors to the designated meeting room. The wide wooden entry opened magically with just the hint of a groan, and everyone filled in.

Once they were seated, Madame Graves began the discussion. “Now that we are all gathered together, I would like to open by confirming that I do in fact have a young man in attendance at Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry who was born Harry James Potter. His records are under ICW seal, but his Magical Guardian has given me permission to inform you – and by extension the British Wizarding Public – that he is being raised in America by legal guardians named in the late Mister and Missus Potter’s wills. This placement occurred after he was rescued from the illegal custody where he was placed in the immediate aftermath of his parents’ death in 1981. He is currently in ninth grade, a freshman, the equivalent to Hogwarts 4th year, and goes by the name Harry Grim.”

“Thank you for the information, Madam,” Scrimgeour said smoothly. “This will allow our department here in Britain to update the investigation opened out of concern for the boy’s safety.”

Cornelius nodded. That was a good way to handle the issue. He was sure that Scrimgeour would be reaching out to the ICW on his own to confirm, but for now, they would assume that the information was correct.

“Before we go any further, one concern that our delegation insists must be addressed is the matter of how young Harry’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire.”

Here Crouch jumped in. “From what we’ve been able to determine, it appears to have been an unusual combination of factors. Some of the students have admitted to putting ‘Harry Potter’s name into the Goblet because of his reputation. Since he’s in the right age range for original Tournament rules, is not associated with any of the three schools, and fits whatever criteria the Goblet uses to select Champions, his name was selected.”

“Given that the Goblet uses the slips to bind the Champions in the Magical Contract to compete; my experts tell me that young Mister Potter is probably not bound directly. Instead, whichever student’s slip was used to name the boy as a Champion is likely the one bound to the contract. They will suffer the penalty if he fails to compete instead.”

Crouch’s announcement was pointed. If they couldn’t come to an agreement, some poor child would suffer an unspecified punishment, likely losing their magic or life.

“I see,” Graves’ response was dry. “Fortunately, young Harry and his guardians are tentatively willing to compete, provided that our conditions are met.”

 

...

 

After a great deal of discussion, an agreement was indeed reached.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament would become the Quad-Wizard Tournament and, despite already having their Champion named, Ilvermorny would provide a full delegation to match the other schools in the competition. The leader of their delegation, Percival Graves, would replace one of the Ministry judges on the panel for the first two tasks of the Tournament and be granted a seat on the Tournament committee, just like the other schools. This expansion of the Tournament would be added to all future competitions, where Ilvermorny’s Champion would be chosen in the same manner as the other schools. All members of Ilvermorny’s delegation would also hold diplomatic immunity for the duration of the Tournament, under the same terms as the other schools’ delegations. As such, Harry Potter, aka Harry Grim, would be treated as a MACUSA citizen, including all the protections that came with that position.

More than pleased with the outcome, Cornelius went around shaking hands, already mentally preparing the statement to be released to the press and published in the Daily Prophet. Not only had he managed a diplomatic coup, but in the process, he was able to tell Hogwarts in general and Dumbledore specifically, what to do, with unqualified backing from both the Ministry and other Wizarding states.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: The first four chapters of the ‘Appendices’ are up.  
> In the first chapter, I’ve built a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.  
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.  
> In the third chapter, I’ve compiled a timeline for the Obscure Guardian series. It currently only covers up through this chapter of Irregular Homecomings, but I’ll update it as further chapters are added. The timeline includes an overview of Hogwarts events from 1991-1994, which are occasionally referenced in the story by various characters but not laid out in detail.  
> The fourth chapter is the first in a series of biographical sketches, covering the major characters of the series. The chapter features biographies for each of the three members of the Gramander Triad: Newt Scamander, Percival Graves, and Tina Goldstein.


	7. Ilvermorny, Harry, and the Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ilvermorny delegation heads to Hogwarts, as the Clan deals with both the First Task, and the prodigal boy saviour’s first public appearance on British soil.   
> POV Character – Percival ‘Percy’ Graves. American Wizard and retired former Director of Magical Security for MACUSA. Adoptive father of Patrick Grim and thus Grandfather to Harry Potter.

From his comfortable seat, the heather clad hills of the last leg of their journey to Hogwarts teased Percy’s senses. They were a reminder of his complicated past with this country, the homeland of both his partner and his son. As he watched the breeze stir up the leafy stalks, Percy leant back in his seat and thought back a few hours.

 

 

_Blink… Blink…_

_For a moment, Percival Graves, retired MACUSA Director and occasional Ilvermorny lecturer, adjusted his stance, stretched his jaw, and resettled his senses. The disorienting effects of portkey travel had worsened as he’d aged. Leaning heavily on the ironwood cane that hid his secondary wand and had become a permanent part of his wardrobe, Percy eyed the busy crowd of students and teachers passing through the courtyard where he’d landed. The portkey had delivered him straight from his home at the Scamander Reserve onto the school’s campus._

_Percy knew that the chaos was caused by the preparations of the Ilvermorny delegation, headed to Albion and Hogwarts. The delegation’s purpose was two-fold. One, they were there as active support for their newly named representative in the redubbed ‘Quad-Wizard Tournament’, Harry Potter. Two, they were expected to act as representatives of Ilvermorny and MACUSA on the international stage provided by the Tournament._

_Young Harry, Percy’s grandson, was a proud part of the delegation. While he knew that the Brits revered him as Harry Potter, the teen Wizard much preferred his American identity, Harry Grim. As Grim, he was known for his actual accomplishments as a clever prankster, reserve seeker for the Thunderbird Quidditch team, and the holder of a peculiar magical quirk. This quirk, as it was usually called, required the close companionship of his familiar/service dog, Padfoot._

_As the New York Ghost had reported quite thoroughly on the events of October 31 st and beyond, much of Ilvermorny was keenly aware that Harry’s addition to the Tournament was the result of outside influence. The staff and older students, including the entire Tournament delegation, knew that the culprit likely entered Harry for nefarious reasons. Percy knew that they were prepared to defend their designated Champion from both public and private threats while in Britain._

_Percy had just finished settling himself after the portkey arrival when he was approached by his cousin, Ygraine Graves, the current Principal of Ilvermorny. On this particular day, her long white hair was pinned up in a braided crown and her robes were muted reds and blues. They were formal, and elegant, without being too severe. In short, she looked like the Queen after whom she had been named._

_“Cousin,” she greeted, offering her hand to for him to shake. “Thank you for volunteering to be my representative over in Britain. I was worried when the idea first came up that we wouldn’t have enough tutors for our student representatives, given the short notice.” Her lips quirked up in a small smile, “I rather wish that I could have gone, but as you know, there is far too much for me to do here to justify such a long absence from the school.”_

_“Nonsense, the favour is on my side, Grainney. You know that I would be on the other side of the pond for this mess, regardless; your request merely gave me an excuse.”_

_“Of course,” she smiled. Percy and Ygraine turned and looked across the courtyard. There, a train of levitated packages could be seen. The packages emerged from the front entrance of one of the buildings that opened out onto the courtyard. From there they followed a set path to one of the courtyard’s side gates, where they disappeared from view._

_“Come,” said Ygraine, offering her arm to her cousin. “Walk with me. Let me show you what the school has arranged for your stay on the Hogwarts grounds.”_

_Percy accepted, and the two strode towards the side gate. Upon reaching it, they bypassed the moving baggage and headed out onto the lawn on the other side of the wall. The line of packages continued along the grounds, heading across the lawn towards the main sciences building. Of course, Percy knew the building well, as it was the facility where his partner Newt often guest lectured and where his son Pads worked. Ilvermorny had long ago incorporated both magical and mundane sciences into their curriculum. The science buildings housed both magical subjects like Potions, Herbology, and the study of Magical Creatures, as well as their mundane counterparts like Biology, Chemistry, Botany, Zoology, etc._

_Upon reaching the building, the line of packages curved, heading around to the rear of the structure. Thanks to his frequent visits, Percy knew that direction led to the entrance into Ilvermorny’s extensive gardens, greenhouses, and menagerie._

_Naturally, Percy and Ygraine’s stroll continue to follow the package train. Of course, when they turned the corner and caught sight of their destination, Percy gave a sharp bark of laughter._

_There, parked in the shade of a grove of magical trees, – pine, cypress, yew, holly, willow, and other wand woods guarded by a colony of bowtruckles descended from Newt’s old friends – stood a Muggle Airstream trailer, shimmering silver with clean lines. The trailer was harnessed to older model truck painted in Ilvermorny’s school colours of crimson and blue._

_“I take it that… that is our home away from ‘home’?”_

_“To be sure,” Ygraine agreed with a smile. “The enchanters club, particularly the NEWT students, have spent the past week checking it over and renewing the spells, as well as adding a few modifications of their own. The Streamer has been part of our school equipment for a number of years now. Generally, it is used by the science faculty when they want to take a class into the field for an excursion. I believe the most recent trip was last summer’s combined Magizoology/Ecology trip into the depths of the Appalachian mountain range. They were there to attempt an observation of Hidebehinds in their natural environment, as well as a variety of other local flora and fauna.”_

_“Oh, yes, I remember that. The class stopped by the Reserve a few times during their trip, visited with Newt, Pads, and the rest, and saw some of the creatures we had on site at the time.”_

_“Just so.”_

_The pair of senior Wizards stood for a moment, watching as the stream of packages flowed into the open side door of the trailer. Percy was reminded of the time when he and his partners had visited a mundane circus and saw the ‘clown car’ trick._

_“You know, if the Mundanes ever saw us using Wizarding space like this,” Ygraine commented. “They’d either be utterly confused and astonished or start searching for the ‘trick’.”_

_“Absolutely. Mundane magic tricks are such a useful stalking horse for our community these days.”_

_As the pair of senior Magicals continued chatting, their casual conversation was interrupted when a familiar head appeared in the passenger side window of the truck. A moment later, a second familiar head joined it._

_“Hey, Grandfather,” came a pair of voices, as copper hair mingled with dark brown._

_“Morning you two,” was his reply, tinged with sardonic amusement. “Just what are you doing in there?”_

_“Nothing,” the two chorused as one._

_“Well, you had best get back to doing whatever you are supposed to be doing, or your Principal may decide not to let me tag along on this adventure of yours.”_

_Nodding in excited agreement, the children vanished from the window as Percy and Ygraine headed for the main trailer door. Pausing for a moment to wait for an opening in the stream of arriving packages, they ducked their heads as they climbed aboard._

_Once inside, they found themselves in a comfortable atrium, large enough to fit dozens of people. Along the walls, there stood several cushioned benches, above which hung a curious collection of picture frames. Inside the frames, viewers were greeted by a wide variety of sights. Some frames were linked to the camper’s windows, and showed the view outside. Others were magical landscapes of an assortment of locations, both familiar and exotic._

_Seeing where Percy’s eyes were drawn, Ygraine leaned over to him to explain. “The landscapes are some of the sites where the school clubs have taken the Streamer. If you watch for a long enough time, you should see both the club members and the things they saw during their trips pop up. It’s an enchantment linked to the Streamer, which our Magical Art department has set on the windows. When the vehicle returns from a trip, they use the visuals and Magical signatures gathered to create a composite that encapsulates everything important that appeared in the windows’ field of view.”_

_She pointed towards one, a desolate snow-filled landscape in a mountainous region. “For example, the windows managed to capture a group of Yeti that wandered past the Streamer one night during last year’s expedition into the Arctic Circle. None of the students or staff on the trip was awake at the time, and it’s one of the best records I’ve ever seen of the shy creatures. Also, there were several episodes of Aurora Borealis that appear in the picture. It’s quite beautiful, the contrast between the colourful skies above and the stark white landscape below.”_

_Besides the door through which Percy and Ygraine had entered, there were three other exits from the atrium, one on each wall. The door on Percy’s left stood ajar, and bore a gold plate with the inscription ‘Dormitory Wing’ hung above the lintel. The door directly in front of them was wide open, and the packages that they had been following were streaming through it. Its plate bore the inscription ‘Common Areas’. Finally, the door on the right, which was in the direction of the camper’s front, was titled ‘Transport’._

_Like the others, this door stood open, and from inside Percy could hear several male voices. He gestured, curious, and the pair headed over to investigate._

_Passing through the door, Percy was surprised to encounter a simple weighted curtain blocking his way. However, when he pushed through, the view on the other side explained everything. The doorway was the connection between the expanded Wizarding Space of the trailer and the more Mundane interior of the truck, which pulled it._

_Unlike in the atrium, here Percy had to duck his head as the ceiling was not far above it. In front of the curtain stood two pairs of seats, with a narrow passage that ran between each pair. Crowded around the left front seat were three adult Wizards._

_Seated in the driver’s seat was Old Man Carlisle, the head of Ilvermorny’s Enchanting department. He was doing most of the talking, pointing out things to Pads, who stood behind the seat, and Master Eric James, who stood beside it._

_Master James was one of Ilvermorny’s science faculty, a Herbology and Botany specialist. He was also one of the teachers and adult chaperones for the trip to Britain. Besides Master James, who was covering Herbology and Potions, the students also had Percy covering Defence and Charms. Pads, in his guise as Patrick Grim, had taken responsibility for the rest of the ‘hard’ sciences, including Magizoology and Astronomy. Remus had the social sciences, including History and Ancient Runes. Their fifth teacher and sole female chaperone, Madame Catherine Whitefeather, was covering the unusual combination of Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and, surprising to some, Divination._

_In contrast to the other two Wizards hovering over him, Master Carlisle was not part of the expedition. Rather, Percy knew that he was the lead developer for the Streamer, having led the team who handled the original Enchantments years previous. He was still the primary caretaker of the vehicle, carrying out maintenance, and acted as a gatekeeper for any proposed additions or modifications to the design by students or staff. In that role, he was currently making sure that Pads and Eric James knew the basics of how to handle his baby while it was out of his hands._

_In the seat opposite the trio, Harry and Penny were perched in close proximity, taking advantage of the adults’ focus to listen and learn as well. When they caught sight of Percy and their Principal, they paled slightly, got up and squeezed past their teachers, and hurried out the curtained exit. As they left, Percy lifted an eyebrow in a silent scold. Penny winced, but Harry couldn’t resist giving his grandfather a small smirk._

_As Percy shook his head at his mischievous adopted grandson, the trio in front of them had turned, alerted by the teens’ actions, and caught sight of their colleagues._

_“Hi Dad,” Pads said with a smirk nearly identical to the one Harry had just given Percy. That particular mode of address was a running joke between the pair. “Welcome aboard. I think,” he glanced at his companions, “that we are just about ready to head out.”_

_“Excellent news,” Percy agreed…._

 

 

It was now several hours – and a harrowing passage through a series of portals between ley line nodes following a northeast, mostly land bound, arc from Ilvermorny, in the heart of Massachusetts, to Northern Scotland – later, and the Streamer had nearly reached its destination. As Senior Representative, Percy had been given the front passenger seat. Beside him, Eric James was driving. The seats behind them were currently filled by Remus, as the local guide, and one of the senior students, an Apprentice Enchanter who had been assigned by Carlisle to act as caretaker for the Streamer for the duration of the trip. He was keeping an eye on the Streamer’s transit focused Enchantments, especially given the toll a couple dozen portal jumps took on the complex magic.

As he drove, Eric grumbled under his breath about having to use the opposite side of the road from what he was accustomed to using. They were currently on a mundane motorway, approaching the hidden turn-off to Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts beyond.

To the non-magical observer, the turn-off appeared to be a run-down dirt track leading nowhere, but Witches and Wizards saw a signpost marked ‘Hogsmeade Village Ahead’. Despite its ramshackle appearance, the roadway was actually well maintained and even a smoother ride than the mundane pavement. Percy hoped that they didn’t encounter any traffic, such as the infamous Knight Bus, as the Streamer’s bulk took up most of the road. Fortunately, the turn off for Hogwarts was just before the village, so they didn’t have to attempt fitting through the narrow streets of that hamlet.

As they headed up the incline towards the Castle’s gates, everyone winced when the sides and top of the Streamer brushed against the foliage surrounding the road. Clearly, the passage was unaccustomed to handling a vehicle of their size.

Eric reached out and activated the Imperturbability Booster, a recent addition to the Streamer’s Enchantments. It was designed for just such circumstances, and allowed the vehicle to pass through living things instead of having to avoid them. The booster could only be run for about a half-hour at a time, and had to be re-charged by an experienced Witch or Wizard after each use. But while it was on, the only parts of the forest that were disturbed by their transit were the bits of dead plant matter that the branches they passed through held. After about ten minutes of driving, they reached the Hogwarts main gate.

“We’ll never make it through that without damaging something,” murmured Eric, as he eyed the size of the archway that framed the gate.

“Don’t worry,” replied Percy, “it won’t be a problem. Watch.” He rolled down the passenger window and held out the token that Ygraine had handed him before they left.

_This is your key to Hogwarts’ Wards, Percy,_ she’d explained as she handed it to him, _you’ll need it to enter the grounds the first time._

They could see when the token’s Magical signature reached the edge of the Wards. Not only did the barred iron gate swing open with a creaking groan, but the frame in which it hung expanded until there was plenty of room for the Streamer to pass through.

“Here we go,” Remus muttered, letting out a breath, as the Ilvermorny delegation crossed over onto Hogwarts’ grounds.

_Curious,_ Percy thought as he passed through the Ward boundary. _Hogwarts Wards feel as strong as ever, but there’s a hint of… something, corruption maybe?... there, something has managed to leech into them since the last time I visited the school. It has been decades, Artemis’ graduation ceremony I think. I’ll have to keep a watch out for the source of the leech._

The Streamer followed the trail up to the Castle, pulling to a stop on the lawn in front of the school’s primary entrance. They parked near a massive, ornate carriage decked out in shades of powder blue and silver.

“Must be Beauxbatons,” Remus commented, gesturing towards the carriage.

“Oh, yes, both Anthony and Draco mentioned the carriage’s arrival in their letters. Flying and pulled by a team of Abraxans, if I recall correctly,” Percy added with a smile. “Olympe Maxime always was fond of glamourous displays, and it certainly fits with the palatial theme of that school.”

“We best disembark, as it seems we have a welcoming committee.” Eric commented as he disengaged the various Enchantments and locked the Streamer down into ‘park’. Beside Hogwarts’ entrance, they could see a crowd of students. Most were in the black robes with colourful accents that their hosts favoured, but there were a few splashes of brown and crimson or silver and blue scattered among the crowd. At the front, Percy easily spotted the eye-catching ensemble of the Hogwarts Headmaster’s eccentric robes alongside the towering form of Madame Maxime and the fur-covered head of – he assumed – Igor Karkaroff.

“Shall we?” he gestured, and the quartet made their way back to the atrium. The Ilvermorny delegation would disembark from the Streamer together in formal order, using the main exit, rather than spilling out from the various doors.

While Ilvermorny’s students didn’t normally wear a uniform at school, they had made special arrangements for their first introduction to the European crowd. In true American high school tradition, they had commissioned Letterman jackets in the school’s colours of cranberry and blue, with gold finishing. Beneath the jackets, they wore khaki slacks or skirts, white shirts, and pullover sweaters, again in their school’s colours. Many of the students wore knit caps, scarves, and/or gloves, well accustomed to cold weather thanks to their school’s mountain location.

Harry’s red cap was pulled low over his forehead, covering his ‘infamous’ scar, though it was a nearly invisible white line these days. He stood in one corner with Pads, who hadn’t yet transformed, and Penny, visibly preparing himself for the expected stress of being the centre of attention.

“Alright, places everyone,” said Madame Whitefeather. Unlike the students, her costume was a nod to her native heritage, the long skirt and top embroidered with her tribe’s totems. She had layered a beautiful shawl over top, its colours similar to the cranberry and blue worn by her students. The other teachers had also kept their individual style while incorporating the school’s colours in some way. It helped them to stand out from the similarly dressed students.

The group lined up in pairs. At the front, Catherine Whitefeather took her place beside Percy, her arm in his to replace his usual cane for the sake of presentation. Behind them, the students lined up by seniority. This meant that the final pair was Harry and Penny, accompanied by the now shifted Padfoot. Eric and Remus closed out the train, taking the ‘rear-guard’ of the procession.

As they approached their audience, the Ilvermorny group adjusted their positions until they formed an arc. Turning to face the others, they gave a synchronized bow.

Using a mild wandless _sonorous_ , Percy projected his remarks, nominally to their host.

“Headmaster Dumbledore, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thanks you and Hogwarts for hosting our delegation under such short notice. We look forward to joining with our European compatriots in celebrating the Magical capabilities of our young people.”

Startled by Percy usurping his chance to make a grand speech, Hogwarts’ Headmaster stuttered for a moment before he responded. “And in return, Hogwarts welcomes Ilvermorny’s delegation as it joins our little Tournament. Shall we all adjourn to the Great Hall before the children get too cold?”

Behind him, many of the watching students visibly rolled their eyes, although some of the younger ones clearly hadn’t mastered warming charms and were indeed shivering.

“Yes, lets,” Percy agreed mildly. He reclaimed Catherine’s arm casually, making it look like a gentlemanly gesture instead of the physical support he needed, and the entire crowd headed inside. With the formal division broken, Percy saw that his charges were rapidly encompassed by their new met peers. Out of the corner of his eye, he was relieved to see Harry surrounded by his cousins and their friends, providing a buffer from those who wanted to gawk at ‘the-boy-who-lived’.

In Hogwarts’ Great Hall, the Ilvermorny students were guided to join the Gryffindor table, just as the Durmstrang students had claim to the end of the Slytherin benches and the Beauxbatons were clustered at the Ravenclaw one. “It seemed appropriate,” Dumbledore commented when he saw where Percy was looking. “This way each table hosts one of the champions. Speaking of which, you never did indicate which of your students the young Champion is.”

The aged headmaster was clearly probing for information. Seeing no harm, Percy shrugged. “He’s easy to spot, just look for the dog at his side.”

While Harry was still relatively short, no doubt due to the malnutrition he had suffered in his early childhood, he otherwise appeared older than his actual years and thus did not significantly stand out from his peers. His hair, dark brown with some sun highlights, had some of the same messiness as his father, but Harry didn’t need glasses except for reading or doing close up detail work. This had helped him avoid looking too much like James Potter. It also made his brilliant green eyes stand out even more dramatically, and Remus had claimed that they were a brighter colour than the jade shade of his mother’s orbs.

“Dog?” asked the Headmaster, his mask of geniality firmly in place. “Why does young Mr. Potter have an animal with him at dinner? Shouldn’t the animal be left behind in his quarters, like any other pet would be?”

Percy suppressed a sigh. He knew that the other Wizard had been briefed about Padfoot’s official purpose as part of the negotiations, but he was unsurprised at the probing for further information. “Harry Grim’s dog Padfoot is a registered service animal and a part of his treatment for permanent damage suffered in the time prior to his current Guardian claiming custody. I have an official letter from his Healer stating that Padfoot must be allowed to accompany the child at his discretion. Given the stress of being forced to compete as a Champion, I would be unsurprised if we never see Harry without Padfoot while the delegation is here at Hogwarts.”

 

The rest of the meal continued in much the same manner, as two keen minds matched wits. By the time Percy made it back to his chambers, he desperately needed a drink. Fortunately, Pads and Remus were ready and willing to help. Remus cracked open a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon that he’d picked up from Percy’s favourite supplier that past summer and poured each of them a healthy serving.

“So, updates?” Percy asked.

“Well, we’ve confirmed that the first task is Dragons, and that they’re currently housed somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. We already knew that Krum had been informed, and I can add Delacour to the list as well. If Diggory hasn’t heard the rumours as well, I’d be very surprised,” Remus said. “Aurora doesn’t have the boy in her class this year, but many of her students have been whispering about the creatures. Besides, there have been occasional flares of Dragon Fire visible from the Astronomy Tower at night the last couple of weeks.”

“Aurora, huh,” Pads said, with a nudge at his ‘brother’s shoulder.

Remus blushed, “Yes, Pads, we were colleagues all last year, you know.”

“Stop it, you two, we need to focus,” said Percy, his smile showing that he didn’t mean the scold. “So far, I don’t think anyone here has managed to figure out that our family is Harry’s ‘influential new relatives’, not even Dumbledore. Remus, I’m hoping that if you spill that information, it might let you remain our ‘spy’ in that camp.”

“Sure,” Remus said easily. His loyalty to the Clan, which had become his family when Pads was adopted, was absolute, and spying on his ‘old leader’ was not the hardship that the spying he’d done during the Voldemort conflict had been. “I’ll tell Dumbledore that I got the job at Ilvermorny after leaving Hogwarts last year, and only found out about Harry later.”

“Good. I’d like to keep Harry’s connection to the Clan from being public knowledge until after at least the first task, but as you know it’s not that important or big a secret.”

“Not like the Patrick Grim is Padfoot is Sirius Black combination,” Pads finished.

“Exactly. Now, how is Harry feeling about the task? Does he have a plan?”

“We’ve got several ideas, depending on the exact nature of the task and the species of Dragon he gets.”

“Good. Don’t tell me details, as a judge I should at least try to be somewhat impartial.”

Pads snorted, “not like the other judges won’t be biased.”

“True. Still, it is the principle of the thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

By the time the morning of the first task arrived a few days later, Percy was pleased to see that the various threads of the Clan’s strategy had already begun to work.

Between Ted, Artemis, and Lucius, they had the publicity side well handled. Lucius had negotiated an arrangement with Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet’s assigned reporter for the Tournament. He offered her the rights to an exclusive set of British interviews with Harry; one at the beginning of the New Year about where he’d been for the past decade, and one after the tournament about his experience. In exchange, Lucius had the right of first viewing – and edit – of any articles about Harry before they were published. Meanwhile, Ted had used his friendship with the Prophet’s Editor, Barnabus Chuffe, to help with editing any articles about the Yanks. At the same time, Artemis had taken lead on making sure that the Wizengamut knew the correct facts about the Ministry’s arrangement with MACUSA that brought Harry back to Britain.

Similarly, each branch of the Clan’s family and allies were working on their segment of the population. The main Gramander crowd, including Tina, Newt, their middle daughter Thena and her husband Roger, and their nephew Isaac Goldstein and his family, had lead on handling the North American side of things. Eris and Carlos Ramirez brought in alliances from outside the Western world, as well as another link to the ICW through Carlos’ work. Artemis’ husband Wilhelm helped with their European allies, beyond his work on legal issues as the family lawyer. Andromeda Tonks had lead on the general Muggleborn population, along with her husband, while the Malfoys and Narcissa’s parents were focused on the Dark Purebloods. Judah and Peggy Goldstein were focused on the Light Purebloods through her family, the Abbotts, as well as the British agricultural/farming communities. Demetrius Scamander had a link to the intellectuals and the Department of Mysteries, while Dora Tonks was a handy in to the DMLE, especially through her mentor, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Then there were the students. Draco and Ingrid were able to work together to leverage the pureblood/Slytherin network, with some help from Rolf. Ant, and the new to the alliance Hannah, brought in the general Hogwarts population. Penny was a great resource there, as she was a friendly face without a famous name. Ingrid was focusing much of her efforts toward the Beauxbatons side, as the alliance didn’t have a significant presence there.

Well aware of people’s assumptions about their ‘boy saviour’, with the others’ encouragement, Harry took advantage of the connection that he’d made with Ginny Weasley back at the World Cup. The pair had started a correspondence, mostly talking about flying. When the girl realized that her ‘pen-friend Harry’ was Harry Potter upon their arrival at Hogwarts, she had nearly passed out. Her friends Hermione and Luna, who had both figured out Harry’s identity well before his arrival, helped her push past the surprise.

Chatting with Ginny at the Ilvermorny Welcoming Feast, he’d apologized to her and the others about not revealing his identity. Harry also apologized specifically to Neville, his godbrother through their mothers, for not revealing the truth of his identity. The other boy had shrugged it off, saying that he understood the need for secrecy.

 

* * *

 

 

Percy slowly climbed the wooden stairs up the newly constructed arena to take his seat in the judges’ box, ready for the First Task of the Quad Wizard Tournament. Below him, a large ring of stands surrounded the arena ground. Unlike a Quidditch pitch, the designated surface was covered in rocks and boulders, mimicking the mountainous habitats of the Dragons.

On one side of the arena, a large opening in the stands provided an entry and exit point for the Dragons. Directly opposite stood a set of tents. One, coloured a bright purple, housed the Champions waiting for their turn to compete. The other, a blinding shade of white, was the site of an emergency medical suite, where Hogwarts’ Madame Pomfrey was on hand and ready to work.

Joining Percy in the box were the other School representatives and Tournament Judges: Dumbledore for Hogwarts, Karkaroff for Durmstrang, and Maxime for Beauxbatons. Then there were the representatives of the British Ministry of Magic. As part of the agreement for Harry’s participation, Percy’s position as a judge came from the seat originally held by Ludo Bagman. While he lost voting privileges, the Ministry representative did continue in his role as announcer for Tournament events. The other Ministry representative, the Head of the Ministry’s Department of International Magical Cooperation, Bartemius Crouch, would cast the fifth vote. The man looked pale and tired, his moustache twitching in a clear indication of stress. Percy wondered what had happened to the man’s house-elf, the one that had caused such a fuss back at the Cup, and if losing his bonded servant was contributing to his poor condition.

The Champions had already been sequestered in their tent, having been assigned their competition order via random draw. Now all that remained was the delivery of the first dragon.

The festival atmosphere of the Tournament audience was broken at the sound of a loud roar, as a team of Dragon Keepers guided their first charge into place. The pale November sunlight shined off the silvery-blue scales of a female Swedish Short-Snout as she made her way into the arena. She came stalking through the large opening, huffing as she followed a levitated nest full of eggs.

Like their mother, the Short-Snout eggs shimmered silver. This served to make the interloper in the nest, an egg shaped object that gleamed in metallic gold, stand out. Percy knew that this was the prize the competitors were seeking. Once the nest was settled in a notch at the centre of the arena, the nesting mother immediately curled around it, sniffing at the eggs before raising her head to glare at the audience. She was clearly still agitated, as hints of smoke and flames of blue white flickered about her snout, but she remained still as – with a well-placed _Sonorus_ – Ludo Bagman began to speak.

As the aging former sports star grandstanded his way through an explanation of the Task, Percy went to work on a matter that he knew his beloved mate would deem necessary: protecting the eggs. He had assumed that the Tournament Organizers would use transfigured substitutes, but the moment he caught sight of them he recognized that they were authentic. With his wand hidden inside his robe sleeve, Percy leaned forward and wordlessly placed an _impervious_ on the dragon eggs. This simple spell temporarily created a thin Magical shell around each egg, protecting it from both physical and Magical threats. He finished his task just as Bagman wrapped up his speech by announcing the first competitor.

“…Representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hufflepuff’s own Ce-edric Diggory!”

As the crowds, especially the members of Diggory’s house, yelled and cheered, the Champion appeared. Tall, blonde, and clean-shaven; the young man who emerged from the outrageously coloured tent was the perfect picture of a hero from the fairy tales. Dressed in leathers dyed the colours of his Hogwarts House, at a guess probably modified Quidditch gear, he stepped forward to start the clock on his attempt.

Moving forward a few steps, Diggory left the shadow of the tent and reached the first set of boulders placed on the arena floor. Her attention drawn by the crowd’s yelling, the dragon’s head turned toward the slowly approaching Champion. In response, she let out a snort of brilliantly blue, almost sapphire flame, creating a wave of heat that could be felt from where Percy sat up in the stands. ‘Stay away, interloper,’ her actions clearly read.

Stopping in his tracks, the Diggory boy turned to his right, where a large boulder about half his height stood. Ignoring the agitated dragon, he focused his attention on it, murmuring under his breath and waving his wand through a complex series of movements. The watching crowd whispered in excitement as the judges in their elevated, gold-draped seats, had a clear view of the Champion and his target. Percy recognized the intense focus on the young man’s face as over the course of a couple minutes the boulder shifted form from inanimate rock into a fully-grown and animated Labrador. From Percy’s position, the construct looked like a perfect match to the mundane animal.

_Impressive Transfiguration skills. He’s lucky that the dragon didn’t attack while he worked, though._

For the final part of his Transfiguration, Diggory spent around a minute staring intently into the eyes of his construct. – _Imprinting Orders? –_ Then he leaned back and shook out his hand as the dog construct took off running. It made its way around the perimeter of the arena, making no attempt to hide its movement and drawing the attention of the watchful mother dragon. In contrast, when Diggory began moving again he proceeded slowly and carefully, ducking behind boulders every time the dragon looked in his direction.

_Why didn’t he just disillusion himself?_ Percy thought as he watched.

Having reached its destination, a point almost directly opposite its creator, the dog construct began an aggressive campaign of garnering her attention. It would dart in towards the nest and dragon, barking loudly, before retreating out of range of the dragon’s flames. Eventually, the construct managed to lure the beast far enough from the nest that its master was able to dart in and scoop up his prize.

Unfortunately for Mister Diggory, the roar that the audience made at his successful grab was enough to alert the agitated dragon that something was happening behind her. She shot one final, massive blast of shocking blue flame, which hit the construct before it could dodge, immolating it on the spot. Then she turned back to her nest.

Her roar of outrage at the sight of a thief racing away from her eggs made the entire arena shake, and she threw out yet another large blast of flame in Cedric Diggory’s direction. This time fortune favoured the boy. Since the dragon had just released a large gout of flame in taking out the construct, her system had not yet had the chance to recover and bring her flames’ heat or size back to their maxima. In comparison to the earlier flames seen in the arena, the latest stream of fire was a more muted blue-yellow gust that grazed Diggory’s left arm and back before he managed to duck behind a shielding boulder.

Rather than pursue him and risk yet another raid, the now furious and worried nesting mother dragon turned to focus her attention on the eggs that remained. As she did so, she shook her head until the long, sharply pointed horns on it rattled. Behind her, visibly wincing in pain, the Hogwarts Champion took advantage of her focus to complete his mad dash for the finish line. As he reached the safety of the tents, a bell rang, informing everyone that Diggory had successfully completed the Task.

At that point, excited well-wishers started to charge towards the badly burned Diggory. Before they could move more than a few steps, they were halted by the furious form of the Hogwarts Mediwitch. Her cap visibly shaking from her anger, Madame Pomfrey’s growl as she took charge of the injured teen was enough to frighten off most of the onlookers. Instead, only his closest friends and beloved Head of House, Pomona Sprout, were allowed near to help as Madame Pomfrey levitated his groaning form onto a stretcher and escorted him into the protective embrace of her tent.

“While the Hogwarts Champion is treated for his injuries, and our judges deliberate regarding his performance, the Dragon handlers will exchange our first, magnificent beast for her next counterpart.” Bagman’s excited voice showed no sign of concern over the possibility of injury, but around and below him, Percy could hear whispers of discomfort. Clearly most of the student audience hadn’t expected the tournament to be quite so violent and dangerous.

“My compliments to your Deputy Headmistress,” Percy commented to a beaming Dumbledore. “That was an impressive Transfiguration that her student performed, particularly given the brevity of his time in construction.”

“Thank you, my dear Percival…” Dumbledore began.

“Still,” Percy interrupted before the other Wizard could finish. “I would have thought that Professor Moody would have taught him better situational awareness. After all, what is his favourite saying, ‘Constant Vigilance’?”

Listening in, Karkaroff smirked his agreement. “Ah, yes, Dumbledore, I must agree with Master Graves. It would seem that Hogwarts only teaches academic skills, not real-world application.”

Before the conversation could devolve, the sniping judges were interrupted by another announcement from Bagman.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. Esteemed judges. I believe that we are ready to announce the scores for the Hogwarts champion. We will start with the Champion’s representative and work our way left from there. Headmaster Dumbledore?”

The Hogwarts Headmaster shot out a golden ribbon of light, which contorted into the shape of the number eight.

“Thank you, Headmaster. And Madame Maxime?”

Like the previous judge, the Beauxbatons Headmistress shot up her score as a ribbon, this one silver, rather than gold. She matched the previous judge’s score, also awarding him an eight.

“Goodness, that was unexpectedly high. Thank you, Madame. Master Graves?”

Despite the Diggory boy’s success, Percy couldn’t rate his efforts higher than a seven for two reasons. For one, there were several weak points that he observed in the boy’s presentation. For two, if he scored the boy too high there was no leeway in comparing the other Champions’ actions. So, he sent up the scarlet ribbon with that score.

“Thank you, sir. And our final School representative, Master Karkaroff?”

Unlike the previous three judges, Karkaroff revealed his score through a trail of dark smoke. The crowd booed when he shot out a six.

“Well… Alright then, thank you sir. Finally, will our Ministry representative please cast his vote? Mister Crouch?”

The Ministry representative didn’t bother with a showy display. Instead, his score of eight appeared in the sky in black, looking like it had been typed with an old-fashioned typewriter.

“And there you have it. With thirty-seven out of fifty points, a solid start for the Hogwarts Champion. Next up, we have our second and only female Champion. Representing Beauxbatons Academie de la Magie, Fleur Delacour!”

 

 

Like the competitor before her, Fleur’s emergence from the Champions’ tent was a thrilling sight. This time, instead of a hero, the audience were treated to the sight of a nymph. Clad in the silver and blue of her school’s colours, at first glance the girl’s diaphanous robes seemed an unwise choice. On closer inspection, however, Percy realized that the flowing garments were layered over close fitting body armour.

_The outer layers must be a part of her strategy,_ thought Percy.

In contrast to the Beauxbatons Champion’s brilliant display, her dragon opponent was designed more for concealment. Instead of an overt threat display like the Short-snout had shown, when this mother dragon – a Common Welsh Green – was led into the arena she had immediately settled herself into place directly over her nest. Once she lay down and settled in, she propped her head onto a nearby boulder, keeping her eyes slit open just wide enough to keep watch.

Given the grey-green mottling of her back and wings and the deliberate position that she had taken, the nesting mother dragon was nearly indistinguishable from her surroundings, especially as viewed from a distance.

Once she crossed the starting line, the Delacour girl scanned the arena, seeking her target. In the stands across from him, Percy caught sight of a much younger blonde in the audience, waving her hands dramatically. It was easy to realize that she was trying to direct the Champion.

_Her sister, perhaps?_ He thought with a smile.

After a short search, Mademoiselle Delacour managed to locate the gleam of the dragon’s eyes. When she did so, Percy was surprised by her next actions. Keeping her gaze locked on that of the watchful dragon, she reached up with the hand opposite to the one that already bore her unholstered wand. In a few efficient movements, she pulled several pins from her hair. This allowed it to fall, unbound, past her waist like a waterfall of precious metal. Between her robes and hair, she looked even more ethereal and almost beyond the bounds of the natural world.

Once she had completed her transformation, the young woman continued to move, transitioning smoothly into an elegant dance. As she did so, she kept her eyes locked on her target, much the way Percy had seen snake charmers in India and Persia do during his travels with Newt.

Looking towards the dragon, Percy noted that the young – _part-Veela?_ – Witch’s dance was having an effect. The Welsh Green’s heavily lidded eyes, once sharp, had become unfocused. She snorted small puffs of smoke and flame even as she shifted around in her nest. Percy was reminded of Harry’s favourite Crup back home, and her shuffling while settling into her bed.

Percy, a bonded Wizard and proficient _Occlumens_ of long standing, was unaffected by the Witch’s dance. However, when he looked around he saw that the allure being broadcast was having an impact on much of the stadium audience. Large swaths of students, particularly the younger Hogwarts years, were drifting off to sleep slumped against each other. Some of the young – and not so young – Wizards, on the other hand, were zoning out in a very different sort of dream. Percy suspected that the school dorms would be an interesting sight that evening.

When he drew his attention away from the audience and back towards the nesting dragon, Percy realized that she had apparently drifted fully off to sleep. In her shifting, she had managed to reposition her wing such that he could see the gleam of the golden ‘egg’ in the shadow of one of her wings.

Seeing that her gambit had been successful, the Beauxbatons Champion moved toward the dragon, keeping her eyes locked on the dragon’s head and her body’s movements graceful and fluid to maintain the allure-driven slumber. When she reached the nest, the Witch shifted her attention away from the dragon just long enough to snatch her prize.

Unfortunately for the competitor, that distraction occurred just as the creature snorted in her sleep, releasing a short burst of flame. The edges of the burst caught the Champion’s hair and robes, and as the young woman ripped off the diaphanous layers Percy caught a glimpse of the avian features that were a Veela’s secondary form before the flames vanished and she bolted for the safety of the finish line.

The young Mademoiselle Delacour barely appeared to touch the ground as she fled, and Percy was reminded that Veela were creatures of fire and air.

_It seems that the girl is deliberately hiding the extent of the powers her heritage provides,_ Percy mused as the audience gasped in concern, not having the same insight. _I would bet that the dragon’s flame had little to no impact on her._

Percy glanced over at Madame Maxime, whose serene countenance was an excellent indicator that his suppositions were correct. Catching his glance, the pair exchanged a look of acknowledgement.

“Well, that certainly was a titillating… I mean an exciting sight!” Bagman’s words carried a hint of the lust and drowsiness that the part-Veela’s allure had inspired in the Wizard. “Judges, please reveal your scores.”

In short succession, the Beauxbatons Champion was awarded her score: eight from Percy, seven each from Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Crouch, and finally nine from her Headmistress. Percy wondered whether the lower points were due to Fleur’s creature status, or a lack of recognition of the girl’s true success.

 

Like the first mother dragon, the third Challenge to be lead into the arena was dazzling in her display. In this case, though, the standout element of the dragon was her ruff of shimmering gold spikes, which contrasted against her smooth scarlet hide. The Chinese Fireball dragon’s eggs were a match to their mother, in sparkling gold-speckled crimson. Curiously, the dramatic colouring had a secondary effect, making the false egg harder to distinguish from its authentic companions than in the previous two nests.

In contrast to the Welsh Green’s technique of disguise, when the Fireball’s nest was set down, she planted herself on top in a standing positon. As she planted her feet, the mother dragon shook her head, making the spikes of her ruff rattle against each other. Then she blew out a pair of mushroom shaped smoke clouds from her nostrils, temporarily hiding the centre of the arena from view.

In the smoky haze, Bagman let out a cough as he announced, “Representing the Durmstrang Institute of Magic, we have the ferocious Seeker, Vi-iktor Krum!”

At that moment, the tent flap of the Champions’ holding area was flipped open dramatically, revealing the dark-haired Wizard as he stomped out into the arena. With a scowl on his face, a profile that featured a sloping brow and strong features, and his brusque movements, his appearance called to mind the villains of Western legends. This was in direct contrast to the more classically heroic image that the Hogwarts Champion had earlier displayed.

Young Herr Krum moved in a slightly bow-legged gait, a natural consequence of his extensive time on the back of a broom. Still, underneath that gait, Percy could see the strength of the Prussian battle tradition. He was reminded of the young man’s great-grandfather, Battle Master Vasily Krum. That Wizard had been a worthy adversary during the Great War, Percy’s first battlefield test, and had become an ally and Percy’s counterpart on the Eastern Front during the Grindelwald Conflict. The gruff old soldier had taken out several of the Dark Wizard’s most powerful Generals before sacrificing his life in the protection of his homeland during the final assault on Nurmengard.

While Percy was distracted, reminiscing, the Durmstrang Champion had stalked forward, taken aim, and fired at his opponent. The spell, a high-powered _conjunctivitis_ curse, struck the Fireball directly in the eyes. She reared up in shock pawing at the injury, before stumbling back screaming. Her roars deafened the audience, even as the Wizard before her continued his advance. As he did so, he shot off a combination of blasting curses and noisemakers, keeping her disoriented.

In her panic, the injured mother dragon stomped directly onto her nest, sending eggs rolling in all directions. At that, Percy was very thankful for his precautions, as without his actions several of the Fireball’s eggs would have been damaged or destroyed. Peering through the haze, he saw the Krum scion claim his prize and retreat, uninjured, back to the starting point.

“Wow! An aggressive strategy from our sports star. But, will the judges be impressed or displeased by the amount of collateral damage caused by his attack?”

As the judges gave their scores, Percy was unsurprised when Karkaroff exhibited blatant favouritism, scoring his champion well above the previous two competitors. Maxime, on the other hand, showed her displeasure at the violence of the young man’s actions. Like her, Percy deducted points for the harm done, honouring the expectations of both his family and the school he represented.

“And the judges’ scores total thirty-nine, placing Krum ahead of the previous two competitors.”

 

Cleaning up the mess of the injured Fireball and her scattered nest took a lot longer than the previous two transitions, leaving Percy drumming his fingers against the chair’s arm as he awaited his grandson’s turn in the arena.

When clean-up was complete and the final dragon emerged into the sunlight from her enclosure, he sucked in a sharp breath. Nearly double the size of the previous mother dragons, the black Hungarian Horntail that stomped into the arena was clearly agitated as she stalked behind her floating nest. After all, she had just heard the screams of her injured compatriot.

In front of her, the gleam of the golden prize in the midst of the slate grey eggs that made up the Horntail’s nest reminded Percy of his visit to the gold mines of Western Australia back in the 1950s. When the nest was settled, the angry mother dragon took position curled around her nest instead of over top of it. As she did so, she kept her tail, its bronze spikes gleaming through the haze left from the previous bout, in position for a quick strike, as Harry emerged from the tent.

Unlike the previous three competitors, when Harry appeared the audience could see his youth, as adolescent softness remained in some of his features. Percy knew that this perception had been enhanced by a subtle glamour charm, which enlarged the appearance of his eyes and encouraged viewers to see him as a child. It was all part of the Clan’s plan for Harry’s first public appearance in Britain.

Despite the intimidating sight of the dragon before him, Harry stood firm and calm, ready to begin.

“Representing the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we have our beloved boy Saviour, Harry Potter!” Bagman’s announcement, accompanying the boy’s emergence from the tent, was almost drowned out by the Horntail’s roar. The roar was accompanied by the release of a massive gout of flame, one that was shot straight up.

Like the French Champion, Harry’s first act was to catch the eyes of the dragon, meeting her slit-pupiled gaze with no obvious fear. Percy muffled a chuckle at the gasps of the audience when his grandson’s next act was to place his wand at his throat to engage a mild _sonorus_ and begin hissing at the dragon.

“Dear Merlin, the boy’s a Parselmouth!” Bagman exclaimed, making Percy snort. Britain’s views on that particular Magical gift were quite ridiculous.

From Newt’s decades of work with various dragon sanctuaries, Percy knew that dragons had a certain level of animal intelligence. A few years before, during a particularly memorable visit to the Romanian Dragon Reserve, the Clan had also learned that dragons were similar enough to serpents to make Parseltongue useful. As Harry had explained it, listening to dragons in Parseltongue was like hearing English spoken with an extremely thick accent.

As Harry spoke, Percy’s focus was on the dragon. The first thing he picked up was her body language beginning to calm down, her agitation becoming less noticeable by the second. Apparently, Harry had managed to get through to her.

After a few more exchanges, the mother dragon snorted, and leaned down to sniff the eggs in her nest. She didn’t relax her watchfulness, however, keeping an eye out even as she checked on her babies. Snorting when she reached the interloper, she shifted it to the side but otherwise allowed it to remain in her possession.

_It is still gold and imbued with magic,_ Percy realized. _After all, dragons are prone to hoarding such things._

He caught a glimpse of exasperation on Harry’s face when the dragon turned back to him, hissing as she shook her head in negation. Apparently, the boy’s first attempt to claim the prize had failed.

With a sigh, Harry turned towards the section of the stands where his cheering squad were seated. Behind him, Percy caught a glimpse of Padfoot peering through an opening in the Champion’s tent to check on his son.

Pointing his wand towards the risers, the boy called out _accio_ followed by a string of nonsense sounds. Within moments, a shining bronze object flew towards him. Eying his other grandchildren, Percy realized that the object must have been brought into the arena by one of them.

The object appeared to be some kind of torc, one that was sized to fit around a dragon’s neck. Percy recognized the general design of the necklace as being similar to the one that Newt had gifted to his old Ukrainian Ironbelly companion from the Great War. The torc had spells for protection inscribed on its surface, and was further enchanted to aid the dragon’s communication with her handlers.

Turning back to the watchful Horntail, Harry hissed something that had her rear back in shock. At the same time, he held out the torc in his hands, displaying it fully. After what felt to Percy like an age, the dragon snorted again and picked up the golden egg with her teeth.

Opposite her, Harry levitated the torc up into the air, having opened it in preparation for placing it around the dragon’s neck. Leaning towards Harry – without completely moving away from her nest – the mother dragon stretched out her neck, flicking her tongue out like a snake or lizard as if scenting the air around Harry. When he finished levitating and securing the torc around her neck, she released her hold on the golden egg in her mouth, tossing it in his direction. He flicked out his wand to help direct its fall as she snorted, blew out a small puff of smoke and flame in the direction of the dragon handlers who stood guard by the arena entrance, and curled into position around her nest, using one of her foreclaws to pet her new acquisition as she did so.

Upon catching the egg, Harry, who still had the _sonorus_ in place, called out: “Do not try to steal the torc from Minunat. It is her prize and my present for her participation in this challenge. She expects to be returned to her home with care, as the time approaches for her children to hatch and she wishes to reinforce her true nest before that happens.”

Then he dismissed the spell, tucked his prize under one arm, and crossed over the finish line, ready to receive his score. As he did so, Padfoot darted out of the tent and reclaimed his spot beside his charge.

After a moment of shock, the cheers from the audience were louder than they had been for any of the previous Champions.

Percy had no problem in being the first judge, awarding his beaming grandson a score of nine. Despite Karkaroff once again demonstrating his poor sportsmanship in awarding Harry a four, the scores from Dumbledore – a nine – Maxime – a nine – and Crouch – an eight – placed Harry in first place, tied with the Bulgarian Champion.

_Well, the competition is certainly off to an exciting start. Now comes the bigger test, how will the British Wizarding public respond?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The length of this chapter got away from me because I wanted to detail all four champions’ attempts at dragon wrangling, and not just Harry’s.   
> Reminder: The first four chapters of the ‘Appendices’ have been up for a while, and two more chapters have posted recently.  
> In the first chapter, I’ve built a set of Genealogies for the Gramander Clan and Allies. It’s there if you need the reference, especially for the various Original Characters that I’m using in the series and how they connect to the canon characters.  
> In the second chapter, I’ve compiled a list of important locations for this fic, along with a few details about them.  
> In the third chapter, I’ve compiled a timeline for the Obscure Guardian series. It currently only covers up through this chapter of Irregular Homecomings, but I’ll update it as further chapters are added. The timeline includes an overview of Hogwarts events from 1991-1994, which are occasionally referenced in the story by various characters but not laid out in detail.   
> The fourth chapter is the first in a series of biographical sketches, covering the major characters of the series. The chapter features biographies for each of the three members of the Gramander Triad: Newt Scamander, Percival Graves, and Tina Goldstein.  
> The fifth and sixth chapters continue the biographical sketches, with chapter five covering the Triad’s daughters and their families and chapter six covering Newt and Tina’s siblings and their spouses.


	8. Life at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the excitement of the First Task, students from all four schools enjoy their time together and new relationships, both platonic and romantic, form.  
> POV Character – Ingrid Scamander. British Witch and Senior Durmstrang student. Granddaughter of Newt and Tina Scamander, twin to Rolf, and thus another of Harry Potter’s ‘cousins’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first (and only planned) POV chapter with a fully original character as a narrator. Since I’m trying to do each chapter from a different POV and I wanted to save Harry, Remus, etc. for other parts, using one of the cousins was a good alternative. Also, I thought that it’s appropriate given I used Rolf for Chapter 5. 
> 
> BTW, there is a F/F romance in this chapter, but it's fairly tame in the actual text. I leave any, and all, fun stuff to your imagination.

‘Bang, bang,’ the metallic ringing sound of her knuckles against the Streamer’s main door was startling to the ears. It contrasted with the much deeper echoes of wood and stone that Ingrid was accustomed to hearing. She was just about to knock for a second time when she finally got a response. The door opened a crack, letting out a burst of light and sound in contrast to the darkness of the Hogwarts grounds, and a copper head poked through the gap.

“Who’s there? – Oh, hey cuz,” the voice that matched the head was warm as it spoke to Ingrid and the other students around her. Penny – for that was who had answered the door – swung the door open wide, and with an outstretched arm gestured for them to enter. “Come on in, the party’s already in full swing.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Entering the atrium, Ingrid was unsurprised to find most, if not all of the Ilvermorny student contingent, along with a number of Hogwarts students present. Still more of the Hogwarts crowd had accompanied her and Rolf, the sole representatives from Durmstrang, after they had run into each other out on the lawn. Glancing around, Ingrid was unsurprised but disappointed to find no hint of Beauxbatons blue.

“Looking for Fleur?” Penny asked with a teasing grin. She’d already managed to ferret out the identity of her older cousin’s most recent crush before the Task. Now having seen the other Witch in action, she could certainly understand the appeal, even if Penny’s hormones didn’t swing in that direction.

Ingrid sighed, “regretfully no. Apparently, their carriage is locked down until tomorrow. She sent a message that their Headmistress was waiting to see the reactions in the papers before she would allow the students to wander freely.”

“I’m guessing that’s political?”

“Yes. It is on the recommendation of Minister Delacour and his Cabinet. He is especially concerned because of recent attitudes about Veela here in Britain.” Ingrid sighed again. “It really is a shame how poorly Albion handles sentient creature relations, despite the best efforts of our family and others.”

Penny gave a small nod, then handed her cousin a butterbeer with a grin, “and of course, you’re missing your girlfriend too.”

Ingrid nudged the younger teen with a rueful smile. “Not my girlfriend, brat, just a friend. She desperately needs one given the way the rest of the Beauxbatons contingent treats her when they’re not showing school solidarity.”

“That bad?”

“Worse. Her little sister’s the only one of her friends who was included in the delegation. The other Beauxbatons girls are rivals who hate her for ‘stealing’ attention from the boys, while the boys only see her as an object of lust. Back home in France her friends are either significantly older and long graduated or much younger and thus not eligible as delegates.”

“Hence the pair of you collecting a new flock of ducklings. I know that you’re much the same with the other Durmstrang girls.”

“I suppose that is true, we are used to helping younger kids. She’s got Gabby and I’ve got you and the rest of the cousins. Plus, we came by our flock, as you called them, quite accidentally. Do you remember the Hogwarts group we ran into back in August before the Cup?”

“The one with the redhead that Harry flirted with and Rolf’s blonde?”

“That’s the one. It turns out that the blonde, a Ravenclaw, is quite odd. She’s kind of like Auntie Queenie and Aunt Eris, and has been bullied pretty bad. Since none of her friends is in the same house here, meals are ‘specially bad. Fleur and Gabby happened to sit down near her at the Welcome Feast and saw the nastiness first hand. It reminded them of their problems, so they decided to adopt her. I’d gotten a nudge from Ant to do the same thing before we arrived, so we ended up hanging out that night.”

“Naturally, Luna’s friends joined us later. It turned out that the lot of them could use our help, especially with non-school things. None of them knows much about girl stuff; poor Luna lost her mum at nine, Ginny’s the only girl with six older brothers, and Hermione’s a bookworm and only child of workaholics.”

“Oooh, sounds like fun. Can I tag along, too?”

Ingrid shrugged. “Sure, I was already figuring you would. We have the Yule Ball to prepare for, after all.”

The girls were interrupted in their gossiping by a roar of laughter that had erupted from another corner of the room. In that corner, Rolf had joined Harry, Draco, and a few of the other Hogwarts boys in their conversation. Curious at the cause, the cousins decided to wander over and investigate. As they got closer, they managed to catch the end of Rolf’s description.

“…by the time I finished, the look on his face was priceless. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if Grandfather Percy, or even better, Papa Newt, walked in. He would have pissed himself, or something. Following directions and avoiding collateral damage are important.”

“Viktor?” Ingrid remarked, leaning into her twin’s side.

“Viktor,” he agreed mildly, as Penny asked, “confrontation?”

  “Yeah, Rolf laying into Viktor for hurting his dragon, and worse, risking the nest,” Harry commented.

“Especially after the help Rolf gave him before the task. Viktor knew that Rolf is a creature expert and got notes off him after Karkaroff cheated. My beloved twin here told him how the handlers deal with dragons without injuring them, and the – _boy_ – ignored the advice and went for battle tactics, as we all saw.” Ingrid pointed out. The rest of the group agreed, having watched the Bulgarian’s performance.

“Nice,” Penny smiled. “I’ll get the details later so these guys don’t have to hear it twice.”

“Oh, excuse my manners. Penny, I know you know that lump,” Rolf waved his hand over at Harry, “but I don’t know if you’ve met Adrian, Draco, Theo, and Blaise, yet?”

“Nice to meet you all,” she said, offering a polite dip. The boys, proper purebloods all, responded with the customary abbreviated bow.

 

“So, I was wondering,” Ingrid said a few minutes later, when the conversation had reached a lull. “What exactly did you and the dragon talk about in the arena?”

“Um… Right, I don’t remember if I’ve ever talked with you about my visit to the Reserve, but this would be new information to some people at least.” Harry turned toward Draco and friends. “A few years ago, my Guardian and Papa Newt took me on a visit to the Romanian Dragon Reserve. There were a bunch of reasons for us to go, but one was our research into dragons and Parseltongue. What we ended up figuring out was that each dragon species has its own – dialect, I guess – and to a Parselmouth they sound like the creatures are speaking with a foreign accent. Some species’ accents are easier to understand than others, and lucky for me Horntail is one of the closest to normal Parseltongue.”

 “Anyways, dragons are still beasts that – while smart – are not sapient to the same level as truly intelligent beings like humans, centaurs, goblins, Veela, and Merfolk. So, you have to use simple concepts to communicate.” Everyone nodded, understanding Harry’s point.

“Given that, and the fact that Parseltongue doesn’t have a one-to-one translation, the first thing I did was convince the mother dragon that I didn’t want her eggs. The obvious way to do that was to point out the ‘false egg’ in her nest and explain that it was my target. Of course, when she figured that I was telling the truth about the egg, her general draconic instincts kicked in. There was something made of precious metals in her possession, which made it part of her hoard.”

There were a couple of smothered chuckles at that comment. Harry’s voice took on a lecturing tone.

“Did you know that the reason dragons hoard is for their own health? Dragon skin absorbs trace minerals and Magical energy from the ground on which they sleep. When they build up a hoard and sleep on it, their skin thickens and becomes less susceptible to damage from the outside world. Depending on the exact make-up of their hoard, they can also see other benefits. These include improved eyesight, hotter, stronger flames, greater lung capacity, and even sometimes elemental magic like weather control, water sensing, or earth moving. Of course, each draconic species prizes a different set of metals or alloys above all others. For Hungarian Horntails, it’s generally bronze or some similar alloy.”

Ingrid hid a smile at Harry’s mini-lecture, even as her twin nodded enthusiastically in agreement with his cousin’s comments. Draco, on the other hand, was staring at Harry for a very different reason, his cheeks tinged pink. Clearly, that friendship had developed a fun twist. Ingrid wondered if Harry had even noticed his friend’s crush. Then she shook her head, _nah, probably not. Harry’s a little oblivious at the best of times._

“Let’s get back to the Tournament, please, Hare.”

“You got it, Inga.” Harry said, rolling his eyes at the interruption. “Okay, so the egg is made of enchanted gold, which is appealing but not her absolute favourite. Thanks to some insider information, I had pre-determined each possible dragon opponent I might face and prepared a perfect prize matched to that species of dragon. I then got several of my friends, including Penny here,” Harry dropped his arm over his cousin’s shoulders, “to smuggle one prize with them into the spectator part of the arena. Then all I had to do was _accio_ the correct prize – Penny’s, in this case – and negotiate a trade. Fortunately, Minunat agreed to my terms, as you all witnessed.”

“Minunat?” Draco asked, speaking for the group.

“The dragon’s name. I had met her years ago during my visit to the Reserve and been introduced back then. She really liked the name, and reminded me during our conversation. According to Dragomir, the Head Keeper at the Reserve, it means beautiful in his native Romanian.”

“Wicked,” the compliment was a little breathy, reigniting Ingrid’s smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Several days later, Ingrid and Fleur, along with their collection of younger teens, were hanging out in one of Hogwarts’ many unused classrooms. With permission from Uncle Remus and his friend Aurora aka Professor Sinistra, the help of several of the school house-elves, and a judicious amount of practice Transfiguring and Charming furnishings, the room had been completely transformed from its original barren and dusty state. Now filled with groupings of sofas and armchairs,  work tables with matching chairs, and several bookcases stocked with books either borrowed from the Hogwarts library or added from one of the students’ personal collections, the room had become a sort of ‘club-house’ for the inter-school crowd to use.

Ingrid had just finished walking several of the girls through hair styling charms, which could be used to turn the most stubborn strands into elegant coifs. Hermione’s untameable curls were braided into a complex crown studded with little transfigured fireflowers. Ginny’s pin-straight locks had become a waterfall of delicate curls gathered in a half-twist at the back of her head before being allowed to flow free. Meanwhile, Fleur was putting finishing touches on an intricate collection of braids in Luna’s white blonde locks. The braids kept her hair back and out of her face without pulling at the skin around her hairline. They also distracted the viewer from fixating on Luna’s abnormally large pale blue eyes.

“So,” Ingrid said, setting her wand down. “We’ve talked about my idiot twin’s invite to Luna, Ginny’s arrangement with Neville, Penny’s scandalous secret, and Hermione’s surprising invitation from my school’s Champion. Who’s next?”

Clearly reluctant, but bowing to peer pressure, Hannah reluctantly waved her hand. Her thick brown hair had been twisted up into a complex knot with sweeping fringe. The style partially covered the line of scars that ran along the side of her face and neck before being hidden inside her hairline. These scars, the most visible of several marks left by Fenrir Greyback’s vicious attack nearly two years before, had faded as they healed to become pale streaks against the darker brown of her natural skin tone. Still, they were a constant reminder of her status as a werewolf.

When Hannah had first been bitten, she had tried to hide her status, including maintaining a glamour over her scars. Over time, with help from Remus and others, she had learned to embrace – or at least accept – her new reality. Despite that, it wasn’t until her ‘creature’ status was exposed to the general Hogwarts public that she finally dropped the glamour. Now, it had become common for the teen to explore different hairstyles and makeup that either hid or emphasized her scars, depending on her mood. For this particular look, Hannah had incorporated a Transfigured sprig of jeweled flowers. The artificial flowers were purple wolfsbane, woven into her hair as a subtle yet unmistakable testament to her condition.

“We were talking about the Tournament this summer when the ball and dates for it came up. I mentioned my worry about dating now that my creature status has been exposed and a new friend made a very generous offer. If I couldn’t find someone interested in being my date by the ball, he volunteered to go with me as friends. Just recently, he came up to me and reiterated his offer, despite certain changes in our circumstances since the original suggestion. I’m thinking of accepting, especially since I know it would be helpful for him, too.”

“And, who is this mystery paragon?” Ingrid teased, already knowing the answer.

“Why…” Hannah paused, as several of the other girls urged her on. “It’s our own, newly infamous, formerly merely famous, Harry Potter.”

The announcement was met by a shower of giggles. Unlike the hordes of fangirls that had popped up among the Hogwarts students, these girls had all gotten to know the kind boy behind the title. While a few of them – cough, Ginny, cough – might be harbouring crushes, they all agreed that the troublesome teen could use a buffer. As the younger girls leaned forward to gossip over which girls would be most upset that Harry was off the market, above their heads the two eldest exchanged a knowing look.

They were thinking of another protective offer made earlier that day.

 

_“Fleur, do you have a minute?” Ingrid asked, placing a hand on her companion’s arm and directing her away from the crowd of students leaving the Great Hall to head to their classes after lunch._

_“Of course, ma belle Anglais,” Fleur agreed, allowing the other girl to lead her into a secluded alcove off the main hall._

_Ingrid steeled herself up, and looked directly into the blonde’s eyes, trying her hardest to project sincerity. “I’m sure that with the official announcement about the upcoming ball you’ve had any number of offers for your escort. However, I…” she hesitated for a moment, “I believe that nearly any boy whose offer you might accept would be likely to make a fool of himself drooling over your allure, particularly on a night where you would be doing your best to display your beauty. I would like to propose an alternative.”_

_When she paused again, Fleur patted her arm in encouragement. “Over the past month we have become close, and I… that is, my feelings for you have grown as I have gotten to know the generous heart hidden behind the otherworldly beauty. And, well, I would like… that is…”_

_Smiling, Fleur put a finger on Ingrid’s lips, stopping the flow of words. “I would be most honoured to have you accompany me to the Quad-Wizard Tournament’s Yule Ball, ma cheri. Maman and Papa have been most hopeful zat I would find zome new amours here in Britain, and eet is most wonderful that their hopes have come true. We will shock zese – how do you say – cretins, by showing zat Veela are more zan just sex objects, yes?”_

_“Yes!” Ingrid said with a breathless laugh, relieved at the success of her gambit. “My family will be thrilled as well. Rolf’s been teasing me about asking you for weeks, and Penny recently started helping him.”_

“’ave you um… choisissez vos vêtements?” Ingrid’s reminiscing was interrupted when little Gabrielle asked her question in a confusing blend of English and French. “J'aimerais pouvoir participer. Est très romantique,” she sighed, her face contorting into an adorable pout.

From there the conversation broke down, as everyone started talking about their outfits and comparing ideas.

 

* * *

 

Outside their groups of friends, most of the Tournament Champions had kept the identities of their dates a close secret. So, it was with an air of breathless anticipation that Ingrid made her way down the gangplank of the Durmstrang boat on Rolf’s arm. Unlike most of the mixed school couples, she and Fleur had agreed to meet near the Beauxbatons carriage so that Gabrielle would get to see her grande soeur with her date. Ingrid and Fleur had decided together that the French teen, as a Champion, should be the standout of the pair. This meant that Ingrid had selected an elegant black dress whose simple silhouette allowed her accessories, a staggering pair of silver stilettos and a stunning diamond and silver collection – necklace, earrings, hairpins, and a charm bracelet with a dimensional store for her wand – on loan from the Scamander Family Vaults, to dominate.

When Ingrid reached the carriage, she paused to straighten her dress before knocking on the door. Immediately, a blonde head popped out, beribboned pigtails projecting out to either side.

“Grande soeur est um… almost ready, Mademoiselle Ingrid,” Gabrielle said with a shy smile. “Tu es très belle! Is zat?” She pointed at the diamond Ingrid wore.

“It is real. My mum’s favourite piece in the collection,” Ingrid agreed. “She let me pick them out to wear when I was first announced as a potential Durmstrang Champion.”

As she spoke, Gabrielle had let the door swing open, and behind the younger girl, Ingrid could see her date approaching. Unlike Ingrid’s dark locks, which were pinned up in an elegant chignon, Fleur had let her silvery-blonde hair flow free, with only a single pin keeping it out of her face. Against the backdrop, her dress of shimmering metal gleamed, only a few shades darker than the girl’s hair. In contrast to all that pale splendour, the part-Veela countered her date by donning black accessories. The star of the ensemble was a pendant of black opal, the simplicity of its setting countered by the sheer size of the stone. In her hands, she carried a pair of ribbon corsages, done in silver and white, to be magically bound to their wrists as protection against unwanted attention for the duration of the ball.

Once Gabrielle and Madame Maxime, who had followed Fleur out of the carriage, secured their corsages, Fleur offered her arm to her friend.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,” Ingrid replied, raising a single eyebrow. The girls giggled, and then made their way up the lawn towards Hogwarts’ main entrance.

 

Inside, Fleur and Ingrid joined the other Champions and their dates, who were gathered waiting to take their places for the procession that would open the ball. Ingrid smiled at Hannah, in the same wolfsbane purple that they’d discussed earlier, on Harry’s arm chatting happily with Hermione. The bookworm looked radiant in blue, with her hair tamed into an elegant twist and her large buckteeth finally corrected after an unfortunate incident with Pansy Parkinson just before the break began. Viktor, his chocolate brown robes failing to hide his bad posture, stood beside her, brooding silently.

Ingrid muffled a snort, whispering to Fleur, “Looks like Viktor is doing his usual imitation of a statue. He’s so uncomfortable in social settings, surprising given his Quidditch fame.”

Fleur nodded, agreeing. “Eet really is a shame in some ways zat he ees your Champion. But he ees an impressive fighter, no?”

“True,” Ingrid agreed. While she had been excited and willing to represent her school, in some ways she was glad not to be in the spotlight as Champion. This was especially true given the whole mess with her little cousin. She wouldn’t have wanted to compete against Harry in the Tournament.

Eventually, Professor McGonagall called for all the participants in the procession to gather. First came the judges, led by Headmaster Dumbledore as host, and ending with a redhead that Ingrid learned was Ginny (and Ron)’s older brother, acting as a substitute for Crouch, the British Ministry judge. Then came the Champions and their companions. They started with the host school as Cedric escorted his date, a young woman of Asian background that Ingrid recognized as a friend of one of Luna’s worst bullies.

“Cho Chang,” Hermione whispered to Ingrid and Fleur, indicating the girl, before she and Victor followed Cedric.

Behind them came Fleur and Ingrid, with Harry and Hannah marking the tail of the procession. After the last of the Champions passed through the open doors, the Professor apparently opened them up for general entry as Ingrid could hear the crowds flooding into the room. The Hogwarts Great Hall had been rearranged for the ball, with round tables seating groups of eight replacing the usual trestle tables where students from the four houses usually sat. Meanwhile, the head table, up on the dais at the far end of the hall where the faculty and staff usually sat, had been designated as seating for the Tournament participants and their dates.

“Auntie Queenie,” Ingrid grinned when she realized who her grandfather had brought as his date. “Can I introduce you to my date?”

The two blondes exchanged courtesies as Ingrid spoke. “Fleur, this is my Great-Aunt Queenie Scamander, my Gran Tina’s sister. Aunt Queenie, this is Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion.”

“Charmed to meet you, Madame,” Fleur said. “I can see zat ma belle Anglais ees inspired by you.”

“Oh, sweetie, she doesn’t think less of you for that, you know,” Queenie replied with a small smile. “Our family has never cared a fig about creature status.”

Ingrid smiled as Fleur blinked, surprised at the older woman’s words. “Don’t mind her; Auntie Queenie’s a natural Legilimens.”

“I see,” Fleur replied as she took a seat. “Zat ees a powerful skill.”

Queenie’s smile faded a little. “That’s alright, sweetie, I’m used to it. Most people just don’t invite me to tea.”

She looked down the table. “And it’s wonderful to see you both too, Harry, Hannah. I’m glad to see that you’re protecting each other.”

Taking her seat, Queenie then patted the arm of her escort, Grandfather Percy. “Don’t worry so much, sweetie, I’m sure that everything will go smoothly tonight.”

As everyone ordered their food from the house-elves and started eating, conversation turned to the Second Task and the puzzle that the Champions were given to solve – the eggs that they had collected from the dragons.

 “Well,” Harry commented as he sliced his steak, “I’ve managed to figure out the first part of the puzzle, translating the noise into English, but I’m still working on the rest.”

“I as well,” Viktor stated, and the other two Champions agreed.

“So, how did you figure it out?” Fleur asked, smiling at the others.

“Vacation,” Harry said, shortly.

Across from him, Queenie giggled. “Don’t worry, dears, you all are at the same point in the process.”

All four Champions blew out a breath. Although no one wanted to admit it, Ingrid knew that none of them wanted to reveal something no one else had figured out.

“So… Mermish?” Cedric finally said.

“Yup,” Harry grinned. “We went swimming with a colony in the Mediterranean a couple of years ago, though it took me a while to figure out that was where I’d heard the sound before. The first time that I opened the Franklin-damned thing it nearly deafened me.”

Most of the table laughed at that.

“Me too. I opened it in the Sett’s common room the night after the Task.” Cedric commented. “One of my friends is currently studying for his NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures and recognized the sound from their unit on the Merfolk.”

“I admit, my reason ees a leetle different,” Fleur added with a shiver. “Merfolk and Veela are old adversaries, you see. Grand-mere made sure zat Gabrielle and I could recognize zee sound.”

Ingrid wrapped an arm around her date, concerned. She hadn’t thought about that possibility when Harry had told the family about the egg.

Viktor grunted, and then admitted to learning the sound in class.

_Must be a class he shares with Rolf, because that pest mentioned the same thing._

“Now you all just have to figure out the rhyme and prepare for the challenge,” Grandfather Percy commented. “I look forward to seeing what each of you decides to show us.”

Having overheard, the rest of the judges agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, Ingrid was taking a break from the dancing when she spotted her little cousin off in one corner of the room.

“How are you doing, Harry?” she asked, as she walked over holding a set of steaming goblets. She handed one to the boy, before sipping the other. The goblets were filled with hot cider, which was the perfect drink, especially given the frosty décor around them and the nip in the air from the open windows.

“Huh?” Harry asked a little blankly, staring into the steam of the goblet that he held cupped in both hands.

“I know that this type of thing makes you uncomfortable, you know crowded spaces where people are staring at you and trying to use you.” Normally Ingrid would leave Harry to his Paddy and Remus, but the older Wizards couldn’t really help tonight. Remus had Dumbledore’s eye on him, while Pads was stuck in his Grim form, sitting at his friend’s feet.

“Oh, that…” he seemed lost in thought and didn’t react to her question, so Ingrid figured something else was going on in his head.

“It’s actually not been too bad,” he admitted with a sigh, finally sipping his drink. Then he shrugged. “You know how Hannah’s my date tonight?” he finally asked.

“Of course,” Ingrid said with a smile. “Thanks for that, by the way. She really needed the boost given Skeeter’s most recent article. “

With the British Wizarding Community’s current preoccupation with Hogwarts, the vicious Witch had been lurking around the Castle and the nearby village of Hogsmeade nearly constantly. Her most recent target had been sweet little Hannah. Apparently, the woman had been asking around about Lupin, the sole obvious Brit among the Ilvermorny delegation. The whole story of the previous year’s excitement had come out, including Hannah’s status as a werewolf.

While many of the students had already known about her condition, it hadn’t been formally publicized prior to Skeeter’s article. As such, some of the younger students had begun avoiding her in the halls, and flinching when she approached. But worse were the adults. The day after the Prophet’s article, the morning Owl Post delivery had included numerous Howlers, many addressed to Hannah (though Lupin and Dumbledore also received their share). They all activated at once, deafening everyone present in the Great Hall at the time. From what Ingrid could make out of the cacophony, the senders, mostly Witches, were outraged that a known werewolf would dare endanger children by her sheer presence in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

 “Yeah,” Harry agreed with a thunderous frown. “I’m not sure if the ball is going to help in the long run, though.”

“What happened?” Ingrid asked, concerned.

“Nothing much,” Harry reassured his cousin, “just a couple of unfortunate comments from some of the students. Then, the Ministry representative, who’s apparently one of the Weasleys’ older siblings, made a particularly tactless comment. He decided that the ball was a good time to interrogate Hannah about her Ministry registration status.”

Both teens rolled their eyes.

Over the years, they’d had to sit through numerous rants about Britain’s Werewolf Registry. Papa Newt especially hated how it had been corrupted from his original proposal, which had been intended to help that troubled community. Instead, as it stood now the Registry was nothing more than an excuse for personalized bigotry and prejudice. The Registry and it accompanying legislation had led to the Kingdom of Albion’s status as one of the worst places for known werewolves to live. The Clan had sponsored Hannah’s application for dual citizenship with MACUSA earlier that year, with Remus standing as her Guardian on the American side. The paperwork helped to protect Hannah from the worst of Wizarding Britain’s legislation, but the fact that it was necessary infuriated the entire family.

“I shut him down pretty fast, but Hannah was still shaken. Susan took her off to the washroom to calm down, while I was left to keep watch.”

“Good fer ye, lad,” a voice from behind them had both Harry and Ingrid whirling around. “Tha is quite the Gryffindor spirit ye have.”

From behind the curtains partially covering the nearest window balcony, Mad-Eye Moody came stomping into view. The older Wizard had apparently been lurking out there, and had decided to interrupt their discussion.

“Ye can put yer wands back down, both a ye,” he added with an approving nod. Both Ingrid and Harry had reacted to his startling interruption in the same exact manner. Their wands had dropped – Ingrid’s from her dimensional store and Harry’s from his wrist holster – into their hands even as they angled themselves sideways in the best position to deflect an attack.

“Ye’ve certainly been well trained, whether tha’s yer family or yer teachers is unclear.” His Enchanted eye seemed to stare right through them. Neither teen completely relaxed, but they did at least lower their wand arms, which had been prepared to cast. Moody took a swig from his hip flask as he flashed them a creepy smile. “Scamander, Graves, Goldstein, ye’ve got quite the selection of resources at yer disposal.”

His tongue flicked across his lips, reminding Harry of how a snake scents the air, before he dismissed them with a nod and a comment of “Constant Vigilance” as he stomped off.

Ingrid shuddered once he’d disappeared into the crowd. “Merlin, but that man gives me the creeps.”

“I know, right? He seems so different from Uncle ‘Zeus’ stories.”

“Definitely. Uncle Demi and Mother said that fighting Death Eaters for over a decade was like a _bombarda_ to Moody’s psyche, especially with his eye and leg. Even so, I really don’t understand why Dumbledore would hire him as a Hogwarts Professor.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard the stories from Ant and Drake, as well as some of our other friends. Did you know that he Transfigured Parkinson into a pug, and flung her around the corridor as punishment after he caught her threatening Hannah the other day?”

“What?”

Harry nodded. “According to Susan, they had to get McGonagall to stop him. I may not like the bitch, especially given Drake’s complaints over her, but still.”

Ingrid agreed. Several of her protégé’s had mentioned that the Parkinson chit was a bully, one who preferred foul words over actual curses. There was no way that the girl’s menacing was sufficient reason for that level of physical abuse. Even Durmstrang, who had a reputation for harsh punishments, would never allow something as severe as human-to-animal Transfiguration, followed by what was essentially a beating, as the penalty for a minor offense.

Ingrid and Harry’s discussion was interrupted when Fleur arrived to reclaim her date.

“You promised me another dance, ma belle Anglais,” she reminded the other Witch. “Come on, zee night ees still young. Adieu, Monsieur Potter,” Fleur called as she dragged Ingrid off onto the dance floor. As she did so, Ingrid finally returned the wand that she had been holding into her dimensional store.

“Is zomething wrong?” Fleur asked as they started dancing.

“Nothing urgent, just more drama with Hannah.”

“Is zhe alright?”

“Yeah, just some rude people. We also had an encounter with Moody, so that didn’t help.” Both girls shuddered.

“Zat Wizard is zso terrifiant,” Fleur commented, as she swung her date around in a circle.

Ingrid agreed, but she refused to let one unnerving old Wizard ruin her fun. “Forget about it. This night, it is all about us.”

And as she dipped Fleur, she leant over and claimed a kiss.

_Tonight. Tonight was a time for dreams._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to seven chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies  
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-7 – Character Biographies  
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Queenie, Theseus, Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families


	9. Diving Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament brings certain secrets out into the open.  
> POV Character – Remus Lupin, aka Moony. British (and American) Wizard, Werewolf, Marauder, and Harry Potter’s Uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that finally clues Dumbledore into the larger conspiracy ‘against’ him. It’s kind of fun to imagine Dumbledore with a real angry face as opposed to just his usual ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face.  
> It's also a shorter chapter, as it only covers the events surrounding the Second Task. The fallout, in the next chapter, will be much longer.

When Percy Graves asked Remus to accompany him to the Hogwarts Headmaster’s office the night before the Second Task of the Tournament, the younger man was surprised. It wasn’t like Remus was senior-most teacher in their delegation, as that honour went to Madame Whitefeather. Still, Remus was happy to follow his pseudo-Uncle into the Castle.

However, when he entered the office – passing through the statue-guarded stairway via one of Dumbledore’s infamous candy passwords – things began to make more sense. There were already a number of people present, including the rest of the Tournament judges. In addition, each of the School judges was accompanied by a second adult, presumably one close to their Champion. Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House, was there as Mister Diggory’s advocate, while Olympe Maxime and Karkaroff each had a second faculty member as their companion.

“As you all are aware,” Crouch spoke in a monotone that put Remus’ hackles up.

_Everything about that man is abhorrent. Not that I am biased or anything… the Wizard is merely responsible for Pads’ undeserved years under the Dementors’ non-existent mercy. Right, focus Remus._

“Tomorrow is the Second Task of our Tournament. As part of that task, our Champions will be retrieving something – or rather someone – precious from the Lake. Tonight, we will be determining the identity of the Champions’ precious person. To do so, we will be using a potion specially prepared by Hogwarts’ expert Potioneer.”

Remus suppressed a snort.

_Of course, Severus is involved in Crouch’s plan._

Crouch waved at a series of small pewter cauldrons gathered on a large tray placed on Dumbledore’s massive desk. In the interior of the Cauldrons, Remus could see a pearly liquid that lightly bubbled as he watched.

“Now, each of our school representatives were instructed to provide a sample of your Champion’s magical signature -” Remus started, surprised that Percy would agree to this plan. Glancing over at his pseudo-Uncle, he saw that Percy was eyeing Crouch with a deep frown. Several of the others vocally protested, but Crouch waved them off as he continued his speech. “After this one-time use the cauldrons’ contents will be placed in your control, and you can dispose of the potion as you prefer.”

While Percy still looked unimpressed with Crouch’s plan, nonetheless he nodded, accepting the condition. Remus trusted the older Wizard’s experience. If Percy was satisfied, then Crouch’s proposal was sufficiently safe.

“Once the sample is added, the potion is designed to seek out the magical signature most closely linked to the Champion’s within the bounds of Hogwarts’ Wards. For the visiting schools, I believe that you have already made arrangements for potential hostages to be present on campus, is that correct?”

Three nods acknowledged the accuracy of the man’s words.

_Oh, boy,_ Remus thought. _This could be interesting._

He exchanged a glance with Percy, whose thoughts clearly mirrored Remus’ own.

“As the hosting school, I believe that the Hogwarts Champion’s hostage should be chosen first,” Crouch said in his monotone. Nodding his agreement, Headmaster Dumbledore gestured for his student’s advocate, Madame Sprout, to come forward.

From a pouch at her side she removed a clipping from what Remus thought was a common rose bush – one with a bit of brown visible on one of the thorns. Reaching out, she dropped it into the left-most cauldron. As the clipping hit the liquid, it flashed purple before emitting a cloud of smoke that hid Dumbledore’s desktop from view. When the smoke faded, a name was left behind, hovering above the cauldron’s mouth in an elegant silver script.

_Cho Chang_ , the name read, and Pomona smiled as she nodded her approval of the selection. “His girlfriend,” she commented mildly to the rest of the group. “They’re very close.”

Madame Maxime went next. Her offering was a handkerchief stained with a bit of blood.

_No doubt Olympe asked Mademoiselle Delacour for the donation,_ thought Remus as he watched. _Ingrid mentioned that the Beauxbatons Headmistress makes sure that her students are kept informed._

This time the name that appeared was _Gabrielle Delacour_. “Petite soeur,” Maxime’s companion murmured quietly.

“Indeed,” Maxime agreed. “As expected, though I did wonder if Mademoiselle Ingrid’s name might appear.” She flashed a sly smile at Percy, knowing the other’s relationship with the Durmstrang Witch.

The man in question shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think either girl is to the point where their relationship trumps family,” he replied.

“Zat is true,” the taller Witch agreed.

“My turn,” Karkaroff said gruffly, interrupting the pleasantries as he deposited a scrap of parchment with a stain across its centre into the third cauldron. Unlike the previous Champions, Krum’s cauldron produced a name that didn’t come from their home school. Instead, his hostage was the girl that Mister Krum had escorted to the Yule Ball, Miss _Hermione Granger_.

Karkaroff’s companion turned to Headmaster Dumbledore with a short bow. “Herr Headmaster, I believe that I vill need your staff’s aid in collecting my hostage.”

“That will be no trouble, my dear boy. I will have Minerva help you retrieve the girl from Gryffindor tower.”

Finally, it was time for Remus’ nephew. He tensed, anticipating the uproar that was bound to occur if the name that appeared was the one that the werewolf expected. Sure enough, when Percy waved away the smoke after depositing Harry’s contribution into the cauldron, the name that appeared was _Sirius Black_.

Crouch immediately bristled, while Pomona gasped and the European representatives exchanged whispers. Dumbledore’s eyes lost their twinkle as he glared at Remus. Obviously this was the final nail in the coffin of Dumbledore’s trust in Remus as a spy. He gave his old Headmaster a smirk, silently admitting his guilt.

“Percy, my dear boy, would you care to explain how a fugitive might be present in your delegation to Hogwarts? Not to mention, why he is your Champion’s chosen hostage,” Dumbledore asked, speaking for the entire group.

“Fugitive, Dumbledore?” Percy said with a smug grin. “Sirius Black has long been exonerated by the ICW, and as such is a free man. As a part of the Ilvermorny delegation, he has diplomatic immunity here in Britain. He is, in fact, one of the Professors that accompanied Harry and I in our journey here.”

Karkaroff sputtered, visibly beginning to panic. Remus knew that the man had battled with his best friend during the War, and was justifiably scared of Pads’ skills. The Durmstrang Headmaster’s reaction was likely enhanced by the fact that all the former Death Eaters’ Marks were darkening, as Lucius had revealed to his allies, the Gramander Clan.

If Sirius was loyal to Voldemort but had managed to fool the ICW, he was powerful and knew that Karkaroff had betrayed his Master. On the other hand, if Sirius was innocent, he was a devastating fighter that knew of Karkaroff’s past loyalties.

“I… see,” Dumbledore finally stated with a frown. “Then I assume that your companion here can fetch him while we make arrangements.”

Percy patted Remus’ shoulder. “That shouldn’t be a problem, Albus. However, I would caution you that whatever plans you have for the hostages should take into account the fact that Sirius is a highly trained Hit-Wizard and not a child. He will not allow himself to be rendered unconscious and vulnerable, nor would I expect him to do so. In fact, the Ilvermorny delegation was… concerned when this challenge’s details were revealed to us. After a bit of brainstorming, we were able to come up with an alternative to the rather dubious plan that Mister Crouch has proposed.”

From a pocket in his robes, Percy removed four metal bracelets, and held them out for examination. Each bangle was a single solid silver piece and was absolutely covered with complex runic carvings. In addition, there was a secondary loop on one side of the bracelet, which could be used to connect the band to a chain, rope, or other lead.

“These bands, developed by MACUSA researchers in partnership with a team from Gringotts, are part of a set used by our Magizoology and Herbology programs at Ilvermorny. They allow our students to study underwater life first hand by providing the wearer with a temporary ‘bubble-head’ charm, one that encloses the entire body, not just the head. The bands are designed to either activate using a touch sequence or activate automatically when their wearer is submerged. One of the features of the bubble generated is that its surface thickness and density will vary as needed to maintain comfortable interior conditions. It can also be adjusted to allow the user to float at a set depth when stationary.”

Percy smiled at the shock visible on several faces. The submersible bands were a prime example of the MACUSA research department’s latest and greatest developments. “The ring on the outside of the bracelet is intended to allow the user to anchor their band to a fixed position under the water. For example, at Ilvermorny we use a long chain to cluster classes together by attaching each student to a different place on the chain. Movement through the water can then be provided by any number of techniques. I’ve seen Witches or Wizards wearing the band cast a directed _Aguamenti,_ Transfigure an animal to pull them, or on one particularly notable occasion, take their broom with them under the water and use it to provide thrust.”

Beside Percy, Remus grinned in memory.

 

* * *

 

 

_The final example mentioned had actually been his nephew’s fault. When Harry was younger, Pads used to have Harry wear a bracelet whenever he was near deep water, such as when they were working with the aquatic environments at the Reserve. One day, Harry was wading on the shore of the Reserve’s lake, playing with a ball while waiting for Newt and Pads to finish work, when an adolescent kelpie approached the child._

_The creature snagged the ball, clearly attempting to lure the boy out into the water, where it could follow its instincts and pull the boy under. Instead, Harry grabbed the broom that he’d ridden out to the lake with Pads on and took off flying after the juvenile kelpie and his ball. Newt and Pads, who were distracted working on the juvenile’s mother, helping her to heal from her collision with a fast-moving Mundane speedboat, took some time to notice that Harry was no longer safe on the shore. In fact, they realized what was happening just in time to watch as Harry dived into the centre of the lake, following his new friend._

_One frantic Patronus exchange later, and there were four Wizards hovering over the lake’s surface on brooms, ready to snatch the boy out of the water the moment they caught sight of him._

_It took a while before the boy – who had been happily playing chase with the Kelpie – finally realized that he had watchers and made his way back up to the surface. In the meantime, Newt, Percy, Remus and Pads were all treated to the sight of a happy ‘flying’ Harry, a sight that was still novel at that point in time. Harry had been scolded for scaring them, though not too harshly. Eventually Harry’s Kelpie friend became a permanent resident of the Reserve, staying behind when her mother returned to their previous habitat after she was healed from her injuries._

* * *

 

 

“I believe that we can use the rings on the bracelets to anchor the hostages to your planned collection point, in the heart of the Mer village, without compromising the Task. The Merfolk would simply have to untie the rope anchoring any uncollected hostages upon the Task’s completion. Then the bubbles would float to the surface, where the hostages could be retrieved with ease.”

“Zis is a most excellent idea, Monsieur Graves,” Madame Maxime praised. “We were quite concerned about the safety of zee young Gabrielle, but zis is a most elegant solution.”

“Well then,” Crouch said, agreeing reluctantly, “let us discuss the rest of tomorrow’s events. If the designated chaperones will fetch their hostages?”

Dumbledore nodded, and the four headed out. As they left, Madame Sprout offered to walk her Durmstrang colleague, Herr Schmidt, to Professor McGonagall’s office. Once there, the older Witch would help him collect Miss Granger from her dorm. Meanwhile, Remus offered his arm to young Madame Valentine, the Beauxbatons escort.

The pair made their way through Hogwarts’ halls towards the lawn where their schools’ habitations were parked. When he reached the door to ‘the Streamer’, Remus decided the bold approach was the best option. He reached out and swung the door open with a bang.

“Harry… Pads… where are you my little friends?” He called down the hallways, startling the students hanging out in the atrium.

After a moment, he heard a bark, and then Harry came barrelling out of the common area corridor, Padfoot at his side. They rushed over, barely braking fast enough to keep from colliding with Remus. Harry gestured in a snappy salute as Padfoot shoved his head into one of Remus’ hands.

“Potter and Padfoot, reporting as ordered, sir!”

“Good hustle, men,” Remus replied, playing along. “Now, it seems that we have an issue to address regarding tomorrow’s challenge.”

He escorted the pair into the unused front cabin of the Streamer, shutting the door behind him to avoid eavesdroppers.

“You’ve figured out what’s happening tomorrow, right cub?” He asked as Padfoot shifted into Pads.

“Yup, fetching something precious from the Mer village in the lake.”

“Right, well, the something is um…” Remus hesitated.

“…is someone,” Pads finished, catching his friend’s drift. “Yeah, we thought that might be the case,” he looked down at his son. “I take it I’ve been called as hostage?”

“Yup. Snape made some kind of potion that identified you as the cub’s most precious person here at Hogwarts. I’ve been assigned to bring you back to the Headmaster’s tower for the night. You’ll head down into the lake tomorrow.”

“So, how’d everyone take it? The big reveal, that is?” Pads grinned even as he wrapped an arm around Harry in a comforting gesture.

“Well, the humpback was quivering in fear and Dumbles and Crouch were pissed, but everyone else just looked surprised. I’m pretty sure that Maxime and the lovely Madame Valentine were more shocked at the Old Man and Crouch’s reactions than anything. After all, the French Ministry, among others, were vocally supportive of you in the aftermath of the ICW ruling.”

“Awesome,” Pads continued to grin as he rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait to get in the old man’s face about his bad behaviour and my current status.”

His tone turned serious as he turned to his son. “So pup, decision time. Do we want to keep the big reveal to just me as Sirius, do we want to add Sirius is Padfoot, or do we want to go even further and reveal our Guardian Godparent link?”

Harry rubbed his chin, looking up at his father figures. “Um, well… I’d like to keep the Obscurus and everything with it under wraps, still.” He blushed, and then continued. “I’m a bit worried that people here won’t understand about that.” Remus and Pads exchanged a grin, recognizing that part of Harry’s desire had to do with his romantic interests, and not wanting to scare them off.

“I think we should also keep Padfoot in reserve unless absolutely necessary,” he added. “If it comes out during the event, oh well, but no need to reveal for no reason.”

“Fair enough, pup. That sounds like a good plan,” Pads said as he rubbed Harry’s hair. “I can’t believe how tall you are these days,” he teased ruefully. “Seems like only yesterday you were worried about taking classes at Ilvermorny for the first time, and now look at you, competing before an International audience in your birth name.”

“Right back at you, pops. You’re about to re-introduce the British Wizarding World to the awesomeness that is Sirius Black, making them rue the day that they condemned an innocent man.”

Harry grinned, and on that happy note, their meeting broke up. Remus and Pads used the exterior door to exit the Streamer’s front cabin even as their young charge disappeared back into the Wizarding space of the camper.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Remus was up bright and early, sharing a simple breakfast with Harry in the Streamer’s small dining area instead of heading over to Hogwarts’ Great Hall. Remus knew that Harry didn’t want to deal with the stress of everyone staring right before the competition. Harry was already worried about accidentally revealing the link between him and Pads just by using Magic at the start of the race.

As they ate there was a moment when Harry stiffened, and then relaxed with a grin at Remus. “They just put the hostages under,” he told Remus. “Crouch tried to stun Paddy, but it rebounded back on him, instead. While Crouch recovered from his accidental _stunning_ , Dumbledore was forced to take charge. He escorted the hostages down to the lakeshore at the point nearest the Mer village. From there, the hostages activated the bracelets we provided, and the Merchieftainess and her guards towed them through the lake to the designated spot. Paddy says that it’s a good thing that they’re all awake, given the glares some of the Merfolk in the village are directing at little Gabby.”

The younger Delacour had developed a bit of a crush on Harry ever since the first task, especially as they were brought together through their relatives’ dating. In response, the boy smilingly treated her as another little cousin, doing his best to communicate through the language barrier. Thanks to the Clan, he spoke a little French, but was about as fluent in that language as Gabby was in English. Still, they managed to have fun and connect despite their translation difficulties. Harry thoroughly enjoyed tugging on her pigtails, both metaphorically and literally.

“Yeah, ever since we figured out the parameters of the Second Task, we’ve known that Fleur would be facing a handicap here. Unfortunately, the Tournament committee set the task before the Champions were chosen, and they refused to change it afterwards,” Remus agreed.

As Harry and Remus sat and ate, a number of other Ilvermorny students, including Penny, swung by Harry and Remus’ table to wish the teen luck before heading into Hogwarts for a lazy breakfast. The rest of the students were enjoying a day off classes by spending time with friends while waiting for the Task’s eleven am start time. Given that it was a Friday, the Tournament event had resulted in a bonus three-day weekend, so homework was easily set aside for fun activities. The following day was even designated as a Hogsmeade weekend, giving the students further reason to party.

In order to distract Harry from the upcoming task, Remus eventually pulled out a pack of cards, and challenged him to a game. As they played, Harry and his Uncle traded ideas of the most ridiculous comments and headlines that might be heard or seen after the Sirius reveal. From the simple, ‘Black’s Back’, to the outrageous, ‘Boy-Who-Lived under control of Death Eater’.

Remus, having grown up in Britain, had greater experience with his native country’s usual language and colloquialisms. Harry, on the other hand, had a clever turn-of-phrase, learned from his friends and family.

 

Eventually, though, eleven am approached and they decided to make their way down to the platform where the Task would start. As they left the Streamer, Remus handed Harry his broom, its presence hidden under a simple _notice-me-not_. Harry had dressed in layers, including an under suit made of shed sea serpent scales that was designed to repel water and provide insulation in the frigid water. Over top, he had donned a simple robe in Ilvermorny cranberry and a pair of blue jeans, followed by a golden scarf knitted for him by Hannah’s best friend Susan, and a warm cloak of midnight blue.

When Remus saw the scarf, he couldn’t resist teasing his nephew – a ladies man, huh, cub – as the two walked across the lawn towards the docks full of transfigured boats taking everyone out to the Tournament platforms. They climbed into one already occupied by the Weasley Twins. The pair joked with Harry about the odds they were offering for his chances in the competition.

“You really,”

“Like shocking people,”

“So we’re betting,”

“On how big,”

“The Headlines will be,”

“This time.”

They commented, forcing Harry and Remus’ heads to bounce back and forth with their alternating speech pattern.

In response, Harry shot them a smirk. “Just watch,” he teased. “It’s going to be EPIC,” he added, before climbing out of the boat.

When they reached designated Champion’s section, Harry and Remus were surprised to find the only competitor who had beaten them to the site was Krum. The Quidditch star was sitting on the edge of the platform and glaring at the water, though he did look up and offer a nod of greeting when Harry arrived.

Remus excused himself and headed up to the platform’s upper level, which provided a better view of the lake, leaving Harry to make stilted conversation with his fellow Champion. It was not long before they were joined by the other two Champions, even as the judges – and Bagman as announcer – gathered in their designated area near where Remus stood.

Remus could feel the poorly disguised glare that Dumbledore shot him as he arrived, and he turned away to hide his corresponding smirk. He knew that the Hogwarts Headmaster was furious at Remus’ so-called betrayal, but he couldn’t be arsed to care.  

 

* * *

 

 

As he leaned on the railing, Remus was startled when a familiar figure stumped up to his side.

“Albus isn’t too happy with you there, Remus,” Moody spoke, his voice a rough gravel. “Ye have proved yerself loyal to someone other than him. I got ter hear him rant about it last night.”

Remus chuckled, and Moody gave him a nod. “Don’t tell the man that I said this but; good on ye lad, being loyal to yer friends over his plans.”

As the scarred wizard turned and stomped away, for a moment Remus thought he caught the man’s Magical eye staring at his arse. Then he shook his head; Moody was not bent, at least not as far as anyone knew.

 

“Interesting old bugger, isn’t he?”

This time Remus’ companion was less of a surprise.

“Thena,” he commented mildly, greeting Pads’ adopted sister. “How are you?”

“I’m well. Glad for a break from the boys, even if I had to get up ridiculously early to make it over here in time.”

“You came all the way from New York this morning?”

“Yup. I’m covering today’s events for the Ghost, you know.”

“I figured. Did you get a chance to say hi to Penny?”

“Not yet. I’ll catch her later. I’m sure that she doesn’t want her mom embarrassing her in front of her friends.”

At that Remus laughed. He knew that despite her protests, Penny would welcome a visit from her mother. The two really were very close, especially given that the girl had been an only child for most of her childhood.

“Of course you would,” he said with a smile. “That is a parent’s prerogative after all.”

“And how are you doing, with both Harry and Pads involved in the task?”

Remus sighed. “I’m managing. To be honest, the Task is challenging, but nothing Harry can’t handle, you know.”

“I’m sure. I just hope it’s not as exciting as the last Task.”

“No kidding. Even with the Parseltongue that was frightening to watch.”

Athena nodded, turning to look out at the lake with a shiver. “It certainly looks cold though, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“The water.”

“Oh… yeah.” Both of them stood for a moment, lost in thought, before the boom of a _Sonorus_ caught their attention. The Task was beginning.

 

In his distraction, Remus had missed the first words of Bagman’s opening speech.

“-each of our Champions was provided with a riddle to solve to guide them in today’s Task. Let us hope that they all were successful in their preparations. They have exactly one hour in which to retrieve that which was taken. On the count of three: One… Two… Three… Go!”

When Bagman shouted go, two of the Champions entered the lake almost immediately. Cedric paused long enough to cast a _bubble-head_ on himself before entering the water while Viktor dived straight in. In contrast, the other two Champions were using a different initial strategy.

Fleur braced herself and then, glancing back at Ingrid who stood behind her on the platform, shifted into the Veela’s characteristic second form. She became a harpy-like creature with wings, feathers, and a beak. With a screech, she took off from the platform and flew above the lake’s surface. Remus guessed that she was using her kind’s link to their kin to direct her movement across the sky.

Around him, Remus heard many of the students gasp in shock, and more than one boy whinging about her fooling them with her beauty. He rolled his eyes, unsurprised at the boys’ juvenile behaviour. Remus knew that Ingrid and Fleur’s relationship was not based on appearance, and would withstand the revelation of Fleur’s second form, that is if she hadn’t already demonstrated it to Ingrid before the Task.

Meanwhile, Harry pulled his broom from where he had tucked it inside his cloak. Dispelling the _notice-me-not_ , he mounted it and headed out onto the lake, casting a _point-me_ to direct his motion. Remus knew that Pads and Harry’s bond made the _point-me_ superfluous, but that was a secret, not general knowledge.

As Fleur and Harry circled the same spot on the lake surface, Bagman commented:

“And our four Champions are off to an impressive start. Deep below the surface, Diggory and Krum are making their way through the lakebed. Krum has managed a partial self-Transfiguration, taking on a shark’s head and upper body, while Diggory is relying on _bubble-head_ and _Aguamenti_ to supplement his swimming skills.”

_Bagman must have some kind of surveillance charm on the Champions that lets him see what they’re doing._ Remus thought. _I wonder if the judges have access to the same charm?_

“While their fellows make slow progress through the water, the other two Champions have leapt ahead by flying to a point directly above where their treasure is being held. And look, they are preparing to enter the water now.”

Sure enough, when Remus cast an _eagle-eye_ charm, he saw that Harry had stripped off his outer layers, and, binding them to his broom, he did something to his ankle and the broom before jumping in.

_Some kind of anchoring charm?_ Remus thought. He realized that Harry had locked the broom to remain in place while waiting for his return.

As Harry dismounted, Veela-Fleur gave a piercing screech and dived into the water as well.

“Oh, dear, it seems that our sole female Champion is having some difficulty in adjusting to the change to water. She’s shifted back to human…”

Bagman’s commentary was interrupted as Fleur’s head breeched the water long enough for her to place a _bubble-head_ before diving.

“Meanwhile, young Mister Potter is diving directly towards the Mer village, though he seems to be having difficulty in maintaining his original rapid rate of descent,” Bagman crowed. “Along the lake floor, Mister Krum is making excellent time in his swim.”

A few minutes passed, as the waiting audience began shifting in boredom, before Bagman spoke. “Oh dear, it seems that Mister Diggory has run afoul of a nest of grindylows… but wait, he’s broken free!” The Hufflepuff contingent cheered loudly.

“Over at the Mer village, it seems that our youngest Champion is the first to reach the captives. He’s swum over to the eldest one – a handsome bloke, if I do say so myself – and is speaking through the bubble enclosing and anchoring the hostage. The man looks familiar… OH DEAR MERLIN, IT’S… SIRIUS BLACK!”

Bagman’s announcement was nearly a scream, as most of the students exchanged confused looks. A few of the older Hogwarts students reacted, but for the most part the name meant nothing to them. The adult audience, on the other hand, had a much stronger response. Some, mostly the local Witches and Wizards who’d come up to Hogwarts for the Task, gasped and screamed. Others, like the international contingent, shrugged and looked puzzled at their comrades’ reaction.

Thena and Remus exchanged an eye roll of exasperation at the ridiculous nonsense. All around them, whispers ran back and forth through the audience as Bagman visibly shuddered. Then he managed to compose himself and resume his commentary.

“Ahem… That is, the young Mister Potter has managed to free his hostage. However, the pair appears to be waiting for the other Champions to arrive instead of heading immediately back to the surface. Yes, and there is Mister Krum swimming rapidly towards the hostages. Without stopping to chat, he has grabbed the rope attached to Miss Granger… you all remember, his Yule Ball date… and is towing her away.” He waited for a moment and then added.

“…Meanwhile, Potter and his hostage haven’t budged.”

Bagman’s announcement made Remus smile. He knew that the pair was keeping an eye on Gabrielle, which was why they hadn’t left. According to Harry, before the Task even started Pads had noticed some of the younger Merfolk glaring and gesturing at the little part-Veela despite the Merchieftainess’ polite attitude. He wouldn’t want to leave a helpless child alone in such a tense situation.

“Ah, and here comes the lovely Mademoiselle Delacour, though she’s looking a bit worse for the wear. She has claimed the third bubble, containing – I believe – her younger sister, and is heading back to the surface, accompanied at last by Potter and his hostage.”

A very short time later, Remus’ charm-sharpened eyes caught sight of the quartet breaching the water’s surface. Harry and Sirius loaded little Gabrielle onto the floating broom first, wrapping her up in Harry’s cloak, before swinging on board from opposite sides. With a nod towards Fleur, who was still treading water, Harry dismissed the anchoring charm. As the overloaded broom sped back towards the finish line, Remus saw Fleur repeat her transformation, struggling to escape the pull of the water for a moment before taking to the sky.

“The final Champion, young Master Diggory, has successfully retrieved his hostage from the Mer village. He is making his way through the water back to the platform,” Bagman called, as the broom with its three passengers approached the finish line. Behind them, the waterlogged Veela followed at a much slower pace than her initial flight.

Given that delay, Harry, Pads, and Gabrielle were all able to disembark the broom and wrap themselves in blankets while Madame Pomfrey fussed over them by the time that Fleur arrived. As she landed, shifting back to human form, Ingrid threw a warm blanket around the other girl, following it with a hug and what Remus guessed was a whispered reassurance to her girlfriend.

Both Champions had returned well before the hour limit, with Harry at forty minutes to Fleur’s forty-five. Everyone who had been in the water had taken a draught of _pepper-up_ and were sipping on hot chocolate while still bundled in blankets imbued with warming charms when the gong sounded, indicating that the one-hour time limit had been reached.

A few minutes later, the other two Champions and their hostages emerged from the water, first Viktor and then Cedric. Viktor had to push Hermione up onto the platform, reverse his self-Transfiguration, and then climb up. By the time he made it on-board, Cedric and Cho had also surfaced. With a quick levitation, they joined the other three pairs on the deck and the newcomers were bundled in blankets and medicated just as their compatriots had been.

As the judges argued under an anti-eavesdropping charm, determining the Champions’ scores, another set of figures surfaced near the finish line platform. This time it was the Merchieftainess, accompanied by an honour guard of a dozen or so Mer warriors. Dumbledore, who Remus knew spoke fluent Mermish, made his way down to the lower level to speak to the elderly Mer. After a few minutes of screeching, the pitch of which would have hurt Remus’ ears had he been closer to the water, the Merfolk departed and Dumbledore made his way back to the other judges.

Dumbledore’s return led to another round of muffled discussion, with plenty of argument visible to the outside observers. Remus could see Karkaroff waving his hands emphatically, Maxime glaring at him, and Crouch standing off to the side with his arms crossed saying little.

Finally, Dumbledore leaned over to Bagman, handing him a sheet of parchment. Beside Remus, Thena had pulled out a pen and notebook of her own, and was scribbling notes about what they had just witnessed.

“Wizards and Witches, it seems that our esteemed judges have reached their decision. For this task, instead of separate scores from each judge, the Champions will each receive a single score, for a maximum of fifty points. Arriving in first, only forty minutes after his departure, despite the underwater delay, was Harry Potter, representing Ilvermorny. As such, the judges have agreed to award him the full fifty points.”

The platforms erupted in shouts and cheers, the loudest of which came from Harry’s family and schoolmates, including Remus and Thena.

“In second place, arriving only five minutes after the previous Champion, was Fleur Delacour, representing Beauxbatons. As such, the judges would normally award her forty-five points. However, as Fleur accepted the aid of another Champion in returning her hostage to the shore, a penalty of five points will be deducted, leaving her with forty points.”

A more subdued cheer was given for the French Witch, as Remus expected. He knew the male population, who had previously been her most vocal fans, were still in shock over seeing her other form.

“In third place, arriving four minutes after the one hour time limit was Viktor Krum, representing Durmstrang. Due to his arrival after the deadline, he will receive a time penalty and thus be awarded a score of thirty-five points.”

The Durmstrang contingent and some of the other male students stomped on the wooden platforms in support of their Champion as the crowd cheered.

“Finally, arriving less than one minute after the previous Champion, we have Cedric Diggory, representing Hogwarts. Like Mister Krum, Mister Diggory receives a time penalty for arriving after the deadline, leaving him a score of thirty points.”

Despite their disappointment, the ever-loyal Hufflepuff students and many others cheered their Champion’s success. After all, he did manage to complete the difficult task.

“Thank you all for coming. Now, before we disperse, Headmaster Dumbledore would like to make a couple of announcements.”

Bagman dismissed his _Sonorus_ , and the Hogwarts Headmaster engaged a similar charm. “My dear students and other attendees, my fellow judges and I hope that you all have enjoyed this Task. However, we did want to explain one unexpected element that became an issue during the competition. As young Mister Bagman announced, the Ilvermorny Champion and his hostage chose to remain in the Mer village until the Beauxbatons Champion had retrieved her hostage. The Merchieftainess informed me earlier that their actions were taken in defence of young Gabrielle Delacour. A particularly militant group of young Mer warriors from her community had made gestures towards the part-Veela child, as the other hostages witnessed. For those among you who do not know, Veela and Merfolk have a complex history due to their differing elemental natures – air and fire versus water and earth – and the temptation of a vulnerable child of their historic enemy could have resulted in tragedy. So, we would like to thank Harry Potter and his companion for recognizing the danger and ensuring that peace was maintained.”

Dumbledore gave a brief bow towards the pair.

“I also feel obligated in the wake of Mister Bagman’s revelation to remind the audience that the members of the Ilvermorny delegation, which includes Mister Black, are protected by diplomatic immunity. As such, he is exempt from prosecution by our Ministry during his visit to our lands, and any attempt to arrest or attack him for his past is prohibited by law.”

The whispers that erupted around Remus at this announcement made him smile wryly. Despite his disappointment in Dumbledore, he had to appreciate the delicate dance that the Hogwarts Headmaster was doing. The older Wizard was clearly scrambling in an attempt to regain control of the situation. In his little speech, Dumbledore had explained Pads’ presence without officially declaring Pads’ guilt or innocence. This left the clever Wizard room to manoeuvre in the excitement to come.

“With that, I will ask that you all return to the shore in an orderly manner, and I look forward to seeing everyone at the Third Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament, which will be held on Saturday, June 24th, 1995, right here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to eight chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies  
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-8 – Character Biographies  
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Queenie, Theseus, Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families  
> • Chapter 8 – Important Blacks of Newt/Percy/Tina’s generation and before


	10. Politics and the Public

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big reveal at the Second Task of the Tournament leads to the long-awaited confrontation between Sirius Black and the government that imprisoned him unjustly.  
> POV Character – Amelia Bones. British Witch and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) in the Kingdom of Albion’s Ministry of Magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it’s never specified in canon, I decided for this story that Amelia would be Susan’s Great Aunt, sister to her grandfather; I felt that it was unrealistic to place someone closer to the age of Sirius, Remus, and the rest in that high of a position in the government. I’m placing her age at roughly 60’s, middle aged by wizarding standards.  
> Also, I’ve used a series of ‘articles’ to fill in some of the events instead of having a massive chapter.

“So how was the show?” Amelia asked. One of her Senior Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had just returned from watching the Second Task of the renamed Quad-Wizard Tournament.

“Exciting, but not for the expected reasons,” the Wizard admitted. “Let me start off by saying that our assumption about Sirius Black and the Americans has been confirmed.”

“Ah.”

“Didn’t get a chance to speak to him directly, but it seems that he’s been a part of the Ilvermorny delegation from the beginning. He’s been hiding somehow, but was forced to reveal himself due to the Task.”

Amelia leant back in her chair, sipping the tea that had been delivered earlier.

“So he has been with Mister Potter, then?”

“Appears so. The Task involved a hostage precious to each Champion, and the man was the designated hostage for the Potter boy. From what I saw, they looked quite close.”

“Interesting.”

“Indeed. They also managed to prevent a serious diplomatic incident in the making. Did you know that the Beauxbatons Champion was part Veela?”

“I do remember reading that in the Daily Prophet, yes.”

“Well, the Task involved the Merfolk.”

At Shacklebolt’s last word, Amelia winced. She had received a NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures back in school, where she’d learned of the instinctual hostility between the two races. Besides her academic knowledge; as a senior Ministry official, she’d read the briefs from Crouch’s office regarding significant international incidents from beyond Albion’s borders. There had been more than one such incident in the past decade alone.

“Well, that has the makings of a disaster.”

“It gets worse. The girl’s hostage; her much younger sister.”

“Oh Merlin!”

Shacklebolt nodded. “Thankfully, Black, and later Potter, stood guard over the child quite ostentatiously until her sister could remove her from the water.”

Amelia rubbed her temples, already anticipating the headache to come. “Well, that’s just wonderful, not only does Black have the Americans on his side, but the French as well now.”

“Perhaps,” Shacklebolt hesitated, and then suggested, “perhaps you could suggest to the Minister that it would be in his best interest to ‘free’ Black?”

Amelia nodded. “I’ve already been working in that direction, but thank you for the suggestion, Kingsley.”

The younger Wizard bowed, and stood to leave.

“On your way out, would you mind asking Head Auror Scrimgeour to join me in my office? Tell him that I need his full files on both the Potter and Black cases, if you would.”

“Of course, Madame,” Shacklebolt nodded, and then left.

As the door shut behind him, Amelia took a moment to summon one of the throw pillows from her office’s sofa and scream into it. Then she picked up a parchment and returned to her interrupted work.

 

“Come in, Madame Bones.” Unlike his sometimes-incomprehensible actions, in voice and appearance Albion’s Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, fit the position like he’d been tailored for it. In public, and when not worked up, he perfectly portrayed the very image of a distinguished politician. However, when riled, the man could achieve a state of frenzy worse than a fairy swarm.

Given the day’s events, Amelia was surprised to find the calm, collected version of her boss when she finally made it up to his office near the end of the day.

 _Perhaps he hasn’t yet heard the news?_ She thought as she approached the Wizard.

As she took a seat in one of the chairs set before Fudge’s desk, Amelia ignored the simpering words of the Umbridge woman behind her. She was pleased, however, to see Fudge dismiss his Secretary before turning to her. What Amelia needed to say was better done in private, without Umbridge’s presence.

“Now then, Madame Bones, what can I do for the Head of the DMLE?”

“You have heard the news about today’s events up at Hogwarts, right Minister?”

“Of course.”

Amelia let out a brief sigh of relief. She had started to worry that she might have to be the bearer of bad news. _Thank goodness, someone else intercepted that spell._

“Well, once I heard I took the liberty of checking in with my Aurors to get the most up to date files on both Black and Potter. Head Auror Scrimgeour has done excellent work,” Amelia threw out Scrimgeour’s name quite deliberately. She hoped that the Senior Auror’s reputation in the Ministry for hard work and political acumen might help encourage Fudge to agree with her ideas. “Based on the information that I have, even without the contribution from Crouch’s department, I believe that there is both good news and bad news.”

“I see,” Fudge replied. He leaned back in his chair. “Well, then, let us get the bad news out of the way first, and then you can thrill me.”

“The bad news can be summarized in one sentence. Sirius Black is essentially untouchable.”

Fudge sighed, but didn’t look surprised. He waved his hand for her to continue.

“With today’s incident in the lake, he has guaranteed the support of the French Ministry. After all, he just protected their Minister’s young daughter from her people’s mortal enemies. Then there’s the Americans. We finally got confirmation this afternoon from MACUSA. As we suspected, Patrick Grim, young Mister Potter’s guardian, is indeed Sirius Black.”

She held out a file to Fudge, who took it, and opened it up while he continued to listen.

“When we were informed that Patrick Grim was the Potter boy’s Guardian back in November, Rufus began assembling a profile of the man. He first showed up in MACUSA records back in late ’85, when he was granted Political Asylum for sealed reasons. Presumably, those sealed records contain the link between that identity and Sirius Black. At that time, he and his son Harrison were listed as residents of the Scamander Reserve for At Risk Magical Beasts. In ’86, the man was adopted by none other than Percival Graves.”

Glancing over at Fudge, she realized that he didn’t understand the significance.

“Cornelius, do you know who Graves is?”

“A teacher at Ilvermorny, one who is acting as their representative at Hogwarts right now,” was his response. “I suppose this explains why he was chosen.”

Amelia winced. Sometimes, her superior’s ignorance of politics outside the Kingdom could be frightening. “Graves may be both of those things, but he is also much more. He is the American equivalent of Theseus Scamander, Cornelius.”

That connection registered, finally making Cornelius wince. He was well aware of the Magical and political power that the Scamander family wielded in Albion as he had run afoul of the family a few times. Most recently, the mess with Greyback and his latest victims, including a cousin of some kind to the Scamander Heiress, had turned into a disaster for his office. True, he had been able to place some of the blame on his Undersecretary as she had been the one to push for Dementor use, but he had hardly emerged unscathed.

Recognizing where Fudge’s thoughts were going, Amelia hid a sharp smile. Poor Hannah was her Great Niece Susan’s best friend, so she was still upset about the man’s actions during that mess.

“It gets worse. Not only is Graves the MACUSA equivalent to Scamander, but they’re actually connected. If you remember, I mentioned the Scamander Reserve? Well, that facility is run by Graves and his rumoured lover, younger brother to Theseus and father to Artemis, the famous Magizoologist Newt Scamander.”

When Fudge blanched, Amelia nodded. “Black basically has full support from MACUSA and powerful allies here in Albion. Added to that, during his time in America, Black as Grim completed a Mastery in Magizoology under Newt Scamander. He is also a registered Occlumens, and according to MACUSA records, holds a Mastery in Transfiguration.” She grinned at that last bit. “We had wondered how Grim managed that, doing two Masteries at the same time, until we realized that before his imprisonment in ‘81 Sirius Black had nearly completed a Transfiguration Mastery. He must have used his previous work and built upon it. And of course, the man is remembered here as a formidable duellist, thanks to his time serving in my department.”  

“Anything else?” Fudge asked, as he continued browsing the file that Amelia had handed him.

“Only that Grim is known to have excellent contacts in Magical communities around the World thanks to his travels with Scamander and others. It wouldn’t be just America, France, and our own influential citizens that would throw a fuss if we attempted to arrest Black.”

“I see your point. What then is the good news?”

“Sir, what would you say was the British public’s perception of your take on Black?”

Fudge looked stumped for a moment. “I suppose… they would assume that my views would match their own, that the man is a known villain?”

“Ah, yes, but have you ever stated so publically?”

That question made the Wizard’s brows contort as he frowned in thought.

“I… I don’t think that I have. We’ve done our best to keep the whole Black mess out of the public eye, so there’s been no formal statement, there.”

“Just so. My contacts finally managed to provide me with the trial transcript for Black’s closed ICW trial back in ’86.” Here Amelia handed over another file. “You’ll note that not only is Black unequivocally innocent, but he also provides witness to an alternate villain in the affair.”

“Who?”

“Pettigrew.”

Fudge blinked. “The same Wizard who he was said to have murdered? The one who received the posthumous Order for stopping Black?”

Amelia nodded, grimacing. “In his trial, Black explained that Pettigrew was an unregistered rat Animagus who fled after faking his murder with the explosion that killed all of those Muggles.”

She gave a wry smile. “Black doesn’t say so explicitly, but I believe that he is likely an Animagus as well, though his form is unknown. There is some reference in his trial to the fact that werewolves don’t attack transformed Animagi, and Lupin is a known childhood companion of both Wizards.” Then she added, “It may explain how Black managed to escape Azkaban – and remain sane after four years in the Maximum Security Wing.”

“Interesting,” Fudge commented, “And?”

“I have already assigned one of my research teams to investigate Azkaban’s weaknesses in regards to Animagi. They’re to report on both vulnerabilities and solutions.”

“Excellent. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Black fiasco there, especially given some of the delinquents being kept in the cells. Now, you clearly have an idea regarding Black, what might that be?”

“Do you know who is responsible for the fact that Black was sent to Azkaban without a trial in the first place?”

“Crouch?”

“Well… yes. But more importantly for you, sir, it was the Previous Administration. Given that Black’s escape happened shortly after your election as Minister, you would have had no chance to realize the truth about his incarceration.”

Inside her mind, Amelia added, _not that you would have done anything even if you had realized, that is unless it worked to your personal advantage._

Fudge raised his eyebrows. “You’re suggesting that we issue a statement proclaiming Black’s innocence on the basis of the ICW ruling? And in it we blame his past prison term on former Minister Bagnold’s administration?”

Amelia nodded. “Exactly.”

“And how do we explain the delay in our proclamation. After all, as you said, the ICW ruling was nearly a decade ago.”

“Simple. We tell the truth. The Ministry never received any formal request for Black’s case to be re-evaluated. Since the Americans have now officially claimed Black as theirs, I believe that I can use my contacts to have a formal request sent to the Ministry shortly. From there, all we need is a formal hearing in the Wizengamut, and you can come out with a win.”

For the next few minutes, Amelia flipped through the files still in her hands, while her superior sat lost in thought. Eventually, Fudge straightened in his seat. Catching her eye, he nodded. “I approve. Your idea has a certain… elegance, though I expect that we’ll have to make some concessions to Black and his allies to gain their agreement. Write up a full proposal, and I’ll start making the arrangements.”

Amelia nodded, and climbed to her feet. As she turned to the door, Amelia overheard Fudge ordering his Secretary, “Dolores, get Barnabus Chuffe over here. Tell him that the Minister has a statement for tomorrow’s Daily Prophet regarding the Sirius Black situation.”

She could see the Wizard scribbling notes on a blank parchment, flipping through the files that she had provided as he did so.

 _Success!_ She thought.

 

 

 

* * *

NEW YORK GHOST

Feb 25th, 1995

* * *

> **_ILVERMORNY CHAMPION EMERGES VICTORIOUS_ **
> 
> _The Second Task of the renamed Quad-Wizard Tournament took place yesterday on the grounds of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Kingdom of Albion. Unexpected addition to the Tournament, Ilvermorny’s own Harrison Grim aka Harry Potter, once again showed both skill and wisdom in his handling of the Task._
> 
> _For this, the second round of competition, the Champions used the clues provided by the prize that they collected during the previous Task to aid in preparing for the new challenge. The Task: to rescue a personal hostage from the depths of Hogwarts’ Black Lake and return to the starting point near the lake’s shore within one hour of the task’s start time._
> 
> _Hostages were selected by the Tournament Committee and included Yule Ball dates Hermione Granger (Viktor Krum, Durmstrang) and Cho Chang (Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts), as well as the much younger sister of Beauxbatons Champion Fleur Delacour, Gabrielle. In contrast, Grim’s hostage was his beloved father and Guardian Patrick Grim aka Sirius Black._
> 
> _An experienced Wizard, Grim Senior recognized the problem inherent in the situation that many missed; an immature part-Veela was being held in the midst of a village full of Merfolk. Therefore, while the other Champions focused solely on their own personal gain, both Grim Wizards elected to protect and serve. Although young Harrison was the first Champion to reach the hostages, the pair waited for the Beauxbatons Champion, who arrived third, to claim her hostage. It was only once the child was safely removed from the village that the Ilvermorny Champion resumed the competition._
> 
> _Despite his chivalrous actions, our young Champion still managed to come out on top, beating the other three competitors and reaching the finish line first._
> 
> _For this accomplishment, he was awarded full points. His point count placed him firmly in first position in the lead up to the Third and Final Task of the Tournament. The winner of that Task will be able to add his or her name to the list of Tournament Champions, and receive the award money, a prize of 1000 Galleons. This final Task will be held at Hogwarts on Saturday, June 24 th, 1995, starting at 6 PM. _
> 
> _Until then, this is Athena Wakefield, special correspondent, signing off._
> 
>  

 

 

* * *

DAILY PROPHET

Feb 25th, 1995

* * *

> **_SIRIUS BLACK SPOTTED AT HOGWARTS_ **
> 
> _Beloved readers, I bring you shocking news from the site of yesterday’s Second Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament, the banks of Hogwarts’ own Black Lake._
> 
> _After careful examination of the clues from November, and months of preparation, our Champions were faced with the second of their three Tasks. This time, they had to retrieve priceless items from the depths of the lake. The items in question: Magically chosen hostages._
> 
> _The Task started off with a bang. Two Champions, Hogwarts’ Cedric Diggle and Durmstrang’s Viktor Krum, headed underwater immediately. The other two, Beauxbatons’ Florian Delacour and Ilvermorny’s claimed Champion, our own Boy Saviour, Harry Potter, took to the skies. The French Witch revealed herself to be a Veela, shocking everyone with her bird form, while Potter made clever use of his broom and a point-me spell._
> 
> _The true shock of the day, however, came when these two leading Champions reached their hostages. Dear readers, when Mister Bagman made the announcement, I could hardly breathe. Our beloved Boy-Who-Lived, his hostage was none other than Sirius Black!_
> 
> _But Rita, I’m sure that many of you are thinking, isn’t Sirius Black locked up in Azkaban Prison?_
> 
> _It seems that is not the case._
> 
> _So how did one of the most infamous villains of the War, lieutenant to You-Know-Who, escape? And worse, how did the blackguard gain the trust of the Boy-Who-Lived?!_
> 
> _Never fear, my dear readers, I, Rita Skeeter, am on the job._
> 
> _Expect more on this terrifying story over the next few days._

 

 

* * *

DAILY PROPHET

Feb 25th, 1995

* * *

> **_MINISTER FUDGE EXPLAINS BLACK SITUATION_ **
> 
> _In a statement made to the Prophet yesterday afternoon, Minister Fudge reveals the truth about Sirius Black to the British Wizarding public._
> 
> _The infamous Wizard’s appearance at the Quad-Wizard Tournament shocked the world, as most believed the man safely locked inside Azkaban. In his statement, Minister Fudge admitted that Black escaped from the prison back in 1985, but further revealed that a secret Task Force has been searching for the escaped prisoner ever since then._
> 
> _“Since his escape, Black has not been seen on British soil, until now,” Fudge explained. “Instead, the Task Force determined that Black was living abroad. As such, the Ministry felt that alerting the public would cause unnecessary panic.”_
> 
> _“In addition, the Task Force also discovered that during the chaos at the end of the War the Bagnold Administration failed to properly prosecute Black prior to his imprisonment. Indeed, we received unconfirmed reports that when Black was tried properly in a closed court by the ICW, he was declared innocent. We awaited his request for the case to be re-opened. Such a request never appeared.”_
> 
> _“Without a formal request, the Ministry’s hands were tied. So, while Sirius Black remained on the books as an escaped prisoner, unofficially, the Wizard is not considered a danger to the public.”_
> 
> _“Now that Sirius Black has revealed his presence in the Ilvermorny delegation, we call upon him to correct the confusion, and present his case to the Ministry.”_
> 
> _“Meanwhile, the Ministry asks that the public does not attempt to harass or attack Mister Black, as he is currently protected by International diplomatic immunity as a part of the Quad-Wizard Tournament delegation. Thank You.”_
> 
> _We await further news and promise to keep you informed of this breaking story as it progresses_
> 
> _\- Barnabus Chuffe, Editor-in-Chief_
> 
>  

 

 

* * *

THE QUIBBLER

Mar 3rd, 1995

* * *

> **_I’M INNOCENT: AN INTERVIEW WITH STUBBY BOARDMAN_ **
> 
> _You all have no doubt been following the recent furore over at our beloved Ministry. Namely, the mysterious reappearance of Sirius Black aka Stubby Boardman, retired Lead Singer of the Hobgoblins. The Quibbler’s own intrepid girl reporter, Luna Lovegood, had a chance recently to sit down with Stubby and get his side of the story._
> 
> _Luna Lovegood: Thanks for sitting down with the Quibbler, Stubby._
> 
> _Stubby Boardman: It is my pleasure, Luna. And may I say that I simply adore your earrings._
> 
> _LL: Why thank you. I made them myself from our tree at home. You know they make excellent deterrent from Nargles._
> 
> _SB: I see._
> 
> _LL: Now then, everyone has been talking about your recent appearance at Hogwarts, in the company of Harry Potter. Tell me, what would you say to those protesting your closeness with the boy-who-lived?_
> 
> _SB: That they are out of line. If James and Lily Potter didn’t want me to care for their son, they wouldn’t have appointed me his Godfather. It is my right and responsibility with their deaths to care for Harry in their place._
> 
> _LL: And if they ask,’ what about your betrayal, doesn’t that make your rights null and void?’_
> 
> _SB: Well, Luna, my response there is quite simple. What betrayal? I have never in my life been unfaithful to the promise that I made to my Godson and his parents, to protect him above all others._
> 
> _LL: And your time in Azkaban?_
> 
> _SB: The result of another’s betrayal followed by a series of unfortunate choices. In the chaos following [You-know-who’s] defeat, the Ministry failed to do due diligence following my arrest. Under the effects of a curse, I made some inaccurate proclamations when I was first arrested. Then the Ministry, anxious to close the case, took my curse-driven statement as fact and sent me to prison without a proper trial._
> 
> _LL: No trial, but how can that be? Isn’t a trial one of the rights that belong to all members of our community?_
> 
> _SB: I quite agree, but as I said, my assumption is that my case fell through the cracks in a chaotic time. To be fair to the Ministry, the villain who cursed me had also set me up for a fall quite effectively._
> 
> _LL: And who, may I ask, is this villain?_
> 
> _SB: Well, my dear Luna, that information is still sealed. Your readers will have to wait until the Wizengamut meeting to get the rest of the story._
> 
> _LL: Tease._
> 
> _SB: And proud of it._
> 
> _LL: Okay, so you’re innocent. You manage to escape from our famously secure prison, and what do you do?_
> 
> _SB: I go visit my godson, of course._
> 
> _LL: Naturally, what happens next?_
> 
> _SB: Well, those who had claimed his Guardianship – illegally I might add – were not treating him properly. Since I couldn’t just leave him there, I went looking for help._
> 
> _LL: And that brought you to America?_
> 
> _SB (nodding): Indeed it did, Luna. I went searching for a place to hide while clearing my name and somehow I managed to find new friends for Harry and myself along the way._
> 
> _LL: That would be Percival Graves, the former Director of Magical Security in America, and his partners Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein Scamander, correct?_
> 
> _SB: Yes. With their support, I was granted asylum from MACUSA and finally received the trial that my own home country had failed to hold. I have to give full credit to the MACUSA investigators and their counterparts in the ICW’s investigations department; they did a thorough job of investigating my claims before the trial began. The evidence collected, which will be provided to Wizengamut during the upcoming inquiry, was sufficient for the ICW to declare me innocent of all charges._
> 
> _LL: Why didn’t you finish the job then? Get your name cleared here?_
> 
> _SB: Well, Harry and I had settled down in America by then and I didn’t want to risk the peace that we’d found. I knew that there were those here in Britain who would try to take my godson from me, and I couldn’t have that happen. Harry is my charge, my son, now._
> 
> _LL: But your technical status has hung over your head for over a decade._
> 
> _SB: Correct. That is why, when Harry was dragged into this Tournament mess, we decided that it might be time to complete the process and fully restore my name._
> 
> _LL: Well, we at the Quibbler are happy to do our part on that front._
> 
> _SB: And Harry and I thank you for that._
> 
> _LL: On another note, any chance you might return to music, now that you’re no longer a fugitive._
> 
> _(At this question, Stubby gave me a mysterious smile)_
> 
> _SB: You never know._

 

 

* * *

DAILY PROPHET

Mar 5th, 1995

* * *

> **_FORMAL INQUIRY INTO BLACK CASE_ **
> 
> _In a joint press conference, the Wizengamut and the Minister’s office announced this morning that an official inquest into the Sirius Black affair is to be held on March 15 th 1995\. The inquest follows hard on the heels of the recent events at Hogwarts, as well as an official request submitted through the MACUSA (American) government._
> 
> _In preparation for the inquest, the DMLE is asking that anyone with first-hand knowledge of the case come forward to give a statement. These statements will be included as evidence, and be presented to the Wizengamut during the inquiry process._
> 
> _“A miscarriage of justice has occurred, when the DMLE failed to follow proper procedure during the original case,” announced Minister Fudge during yesterday’s press conference. “Thus, the Wizengamut is being extremely careful to ensure that all possible protocols are properly met this time. Thank you for your help in this matter, and we ask that our citizens remain patient as they wait for the inquiry to begin.”_
> 
> _\- Barnabus Chuffe, editor-in-chief_
> 
> _For more on MACUSA see page 2, For more on the Wizengamut see page 4, For more on how the DMLE uses witness statements see page 7._

 

 

 

* * *

NEW YORK GHOST

Mar 16th, 1995

* * *

> **_BRITS FINALLY CORRECTING THEIR MISTAKES_ **
> 
> _As those of our readers who have been following the mess over the pond may have already heard, the British Ministry of Magic is finally addressing their long outstanding claim against our Patrick Grim. The Wizard formerly known as Sirius Black has been living safely here in our glorious country for a decade, having been exonerated by the ICW shortly after his arrival here. Despite this fact, the Brits failed to report his escape from their prison, Azkaban, let alone address the ICW ruling declaring his innocence._
> 
> _However, the failure of the government of Albion was exposed during recent events. The Second Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry revealed Black’s presence in the Ilvermorny delegation to their public, as well as his connection to their ‘beloved boy saviour’._
> 
> _Scrambling to correct their error, Albion’s government called for a formal request from our own President’s office regarding their shared citizen, a document that President Thompson and his staff were happy to provide. In response, the Brits set about organizing a formal hearing by the judicial branch of their government, the Wizengamut Court._
> 
> _This hearing, or inquiry as they called it, occurred yesterday, and proved to be a massive public circus. The Court’s public boxes were packed, as everyone and their mother wanted to be on hand to hear the details and the final verdict. For those unable to fit in the boxes, a reporter from the British Wizarding Wireless Network (WWN) was broadcasting live from the press box where I sat._
> 
> _As expected, Black was fully exonerated of all charges, and the legality of his Guardianship of Harry Potter, aka Ilvermorny’s Champion Harrison Grim, was confirmed. The British Ministry was also ordered to pay reparations to Grim, to compensate him for his years spent in Azkaban. The exact amount of funds was kept private, but the public discussion seemed to indicate that it would be substantial._
> 
> _The staff of the Ghost would like to congratulate Grim, and remind him and his son that we will be cheering for them in the final Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament in June._
> 
>  

 

 

* * *

DAILY PROPHET

Mar 16th, 1995

* * *

> **_TRUE VILLAIN REVEALED_ **
> 
> _My dear Witches and Wizards, for those of you who didn’t catch yesterday’s WWN broadcast of the Wizengamut inquiry, I bring you the latest shocking news in the case of Sirius Black._
> 
> _For those of you still unclear about Black’s guilt, yesterday’s inquiry overwhelmingly found in favour of Black. Black was not guilty of any of the crimes of which he had been accused. Not only that, but the so-called kidnapping of our beloved boy saviour, was in fact the rightful reclaiming of the boy._
> 
> _Harry Potter, our beloved boy-saviour, has been living quite happily with the Guardian that his parents had intended. He is safe and happy, as his performance in the Tournament at Hogwarts has shown. I even managed to get a statement from Potter and Black as they left the Ministry._
> 
> _“We are both thrilled to finally be able to visit our birth country without fear that the visit will result in separation or imprisonment,” Black commented. Potter added that, “I’ve been enjoying my visit to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and the chance to see the places where my birth parents grew up.”_
> 
> _Well, Gentlemen, we wish you both well in your exploration of our wonderful kingdom._
> 
> _Meanwhile, Witches and Wizards, the true villain of the Black affair, the man who cursed Mister Black, is none other than presumed deceased former Order of Merlin recipient, Peter Pettigrew. It seems that the scene of Pettigrew’s supposed death was a fake, and the villain has been living in hiding ever since._
> 
> _He was revealed as an illegal Animagus, one who can take on the appearance of a common garden rat missing a single digit on his front right paw. Pettigrew is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous. The DMLE calls for us all to report any possible sightings of Pettigrew, and I for one will be on the lookout for the monster in disguise. This is Rita Skeeter, with the latest and greatest news here in Britain._
> 
> _For more on the inquiry details see page 2, for more on Pettigrew and Black see page 3, for more on Animagi and how they can be detected see page 5._
> 
>  

 

 

* * *

 

As she emerged from the Floo, Amelia spun neatly on her heel to avoid any hint of a stumble. Given her decades of experience with the mode of transportation, it was a matter of habit, a nearly involuntary reflex.

Taking a moment to adjust, Amelia looked around the room. It was musty and old fashioned, with furnishings that had clearly not been touched in years – if not decades. Looking past the grime and decay, she caught sight of a few familiar touches around the place, identifying it as a Black property.

“Well, this room has certainly seen better days,” she remarked wryly as she turned to her host.

From his place leaning against a nearby wall, Sirius Black let out a bark of laughter.

“You should see the rest of the house,” he replied. “It’s been mouldering away since Mother died, if not before. The old bat’s portrait is up in the main entry hall, and if its raving is any indicator of her behaviour near the end, then she was certifiable.”

He held out a hand in an offer to shake. Without hesitation, Amelia accepted.

“It’s good to see you, Sirius. Truly. It had never made sense to me that Alastor’s protégé would turn out to be a Death Eater, so I was thrilled to learn that the accusation was wrong.”

“Thanks for that,” Black replied with a small smile. “My allies here in Britain speak highly of your character and abilities, and I am pleased to find them correct. Now, this may be an odd question, but did we know each other, before I mean?”

Amelia considered Black’s words. It was an odd question, but then she had read the ICW transcript, including the things that Black had chosen not to make public at the Wizengamut inquiry.

“Not everything came back then?”

He shook his head. “Most memories require a trigger to return, and since I haven’t been in Britain in years, let alone visiting within the community, there are still a multitude of gaps. I take it that you read the ICW documents?”

“Yes. They were both intriguing and horrifying in equal measure.” She shook her head as Black laughed again.

“You should try living it.”

“No thank you. And we only knew each other in passing. Mostly I heard about you from Alastor Moody, your Auror supervisor. Alastor and I are old comrades, as we joined the Department around the same time. I came up through the law side of the Department, working as a Prosecutor, before I reached my current position after Crouch’s fall from grace. The only personal contact that you and I had was when I tried cases where you were one of the arresting or investigating officers. Since you were only in the corps for a few years before your arrest, there weren’t too many of those.”

Black nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes, well, we do have one other connection.”

“Oh?”

“Edgar.”

“Who?”

“My nephew Edgar Bones, Susan’s father. He was a member of Dumbledore’s little group with you during the War.” Thinking of Edgar always made her melancholy. “Tragically, his involvement in that group got him and most of his family killed. Susan was only spared because her Nanny elf managed to hide her from those monsters. She’s been in my care ever since.”

She gave Black a brief smile. “I’m certain that you have met Susan, given that she is Hannah Abbott’s best friend.”

His responding grin was sheepish. “Figured all that out, huh?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Amelia just looked at him.

“Right, well, shall we get to business?”

 The pair claimed seats in a couple of armchairs that stood in one corner of the room, though not before giving them a thorough _scourgify_.

“Here is your copy of the Wizengamut’s ruling, officially declaring you innocent of all charges. A second copy has already been placed in your file at the DMLE.” Amelia said as she handed over a parchment.

“And here,” she added a small gold key, “is the key to the vault where the reparation funds have been placed at Gringotts. You can transfer the funds at your convenience.”

Smiling at him, Amelia continued. “Some of the funds came from the Ministry’s coffers, but the rest were reclaimed from the Pettigrew vault, as all moneys included with his Order of Merlin were recouped. We have also opened a file on him in my Department, and he has taken your former spot on our Wanted list.”

“Excellent.” Black nodded. “You should know that we managed to track Pettigrew to Arthur Weasley’s home back in August, where he was living as a rat for many years. Unfortunately, he escaped before we could capture him, and as far as my contacts are concerned hasn’t been seen since.”

“Interesting,” Amelia mused. “And none of the family was aware?”

“Not that I can tell. Wormtail is very good at faking being a normal rat.”

“Wormtail?”

“Peter’s nickname from school. Comes from his form, as you could probably guess.”

“Cute.” Amelia replied, and then added. “I’ll add the information about his old hiding place to our file, and send someone out to interview Arthur and his family later.”

“As I expected.”

The interview grew stilted, as both parties were clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Black did confirm that his escape from Azkaban was possible in part due to his skill as an Animagus, which Amelia appreciated.

They were interrupted when the door to the parlour where they sat crashed open.

“Hey, Pads, check out what I found!”

The unmistakable form of Auror Trainee Tonks came stumbling into the room, her bright purple head of hair startling in the dark environment. Behind her, a decrepit house-elf trailed, muttering imprecations. It was clearly unhappy about her discovery.

“Filthy half-blood Witch be taking Kreacher’s charge,” it said as it glared at the nearly vibrating Witch.

“What in Merlin’s name?” Both Black and Amelia spoke nearly simultaneously.

“Oh, um, sorry Madame Bones. I didn’t know you were still here,” Tonks said abashedly.

“Never mind that,” she replied. “I take it that you are acquainted with Mister Black then?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger Witch replied with a nod. “Pads was mum’s favourite little cousin growing up, so when she heard the news she immediately went to visit. We’ve been hanging out a bunch ever since.”

Black gave his younger cousin a sly smile. “Apparently, I used to babysit little Nymie there back in the day.”

She scowled at his use of her first name, even in a diminutive. “How many times do I have to tell you, Pads, it’s Tonks!”

Watching the pair, Amelia was reminded of her and her own brother, Edgar’s father. They used to snipe each other back in the day, before Owen Bones’ death so many years before.

“While I am enjoying the show, I would like to know what you found. That is if you don’t mind my curiosity, Mister Black?”

Black shrugged, giving Tonks the go-ahead.

“Well, you see, we’ve been learning detection spells at the Academy recently. So, when Pads invited me to tag along here for your meeting, I thought it would be a great place to practice. After mum’s stories from her childhood, I thought I might find something interesting hidden in the house.”

She grinned in excitement. “And boy did I. There’s a ton of stuff that the detectors picked up,” she commented, looking over at her cousin. “You might want to hire a cursebreaker team to go through it before you bring ikkle Harrikins or any of the other kids here, you know.”

Black gave a wry grin. “Already on the agenda, cuz. I’ve been negotiating with the Goblins.”

“Right. Well, anyways, the worst of the worst was this little gem here.”

Tonks held up a necklace of some kind, a locket hanging from its chain. At the sight of the jewellery, the house-elf made an aborted grab at the item, before subsiding back into its grumbling.

Offering her handkerchief to Black, Amelia watched as he levitated it into his covered hand. Now that it was closer, she could see the stylized S that adorned the exterior.

“That looks like the Slytherin crest,” she commented mildly.

Tonks nodded, agreeing. “Yup, though it’s an older style than the one we used up at the school. With the spell, it read as soul magic!”

“Necromancy!” Amelia exclaimed in shock.

“That’s a filthy hobby,” Black commented, absently, “and not one that my family would be likely to undertake. It’s not that the Blacks are particularly Light,” he added when both women looked over at him, surprised. “It has to do with our family history. One of the Blacks’ ancestors delved into that particular field, to his detriment. He left a detailed grimoire chronicling his research, which revealed that the cost in damage caused to one’s core done through the practice of soul magic was most definitely not worth the rewards. As such, we are trained as children to both recognize and avoid such things.”

Then he looked up. “I’d forgotten about that, until this conversation triggered the memory.”

Waving his wand, he cast a series of detection charms, both ones that Amelia recognized from the DMLE’s repertoire and a few unfamiliar to her.

“It’s a Horcrux,” Black finally said, with a sigh. “A soul fragment. I don’t know whose soul, but the size of the fragment suggests that it’s one of several that the Witch or Wizard created. It’s also approximately a half-century old, so it may belong to someone still living. I wonder…” he mused, “how it ended up in this house. I doubt Mother knew it was here, she knows what the leakage from such items does to their surroundings.”

Then he sat upright. “That may explain the sheer level of degradation around here. I thought it was too much to have happened in the few years since her death.”

At that point, Black stopped speaking. Amelia was unsure if it was because he’d lost his train of thought or if he’d remembered that she was present.

The latter was proven correct when he turned to face her. “Sorry for spilling the Blacks’ dirty laundry in front of you, Madame Bones. Do you mind if I keep the handkerchief, the protection spells on it are excellent?”

She nodded, and then asked. “What will you do with it? You know that soul magic is illegal here in Britain, I trust.”

“Of course,” Black nodded. “I’ll be taking it to Gringotts, the Goblins have containers designed for sealing such objects and preventing them from affecting their surroundings. Meanwhile, I believe that they have cursebreakers who specialize in dealing with such Magics.” He paused for a moment, and then added. “If they learn anything that is actionable, I promise to pass it along.”

Amelia had to accept his words at face value. After all, the object was found on private property. Besides, the Ministry couldn’t afford to antagonize Black at this juncture. “That would be much appreciated,” she agreed. “Now, then, shall we continue our discussion?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to nine chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies  
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-9 – Character Biographies  
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Siblings Queenie, Theseus, Queenie’s husband Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families  
> • Chapter 8 – Important Blacks of Newt/Percy/Tina’s generation and before  
> • Chapter 9 – Black Cousins Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus and some of their families


	11. Braving the Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Third Task of the Quad-Wizard Tournament arrives, and our hero sets out to claim victory with support from his family.  
> POV Character – Porpentina ‘Tina’ Scamander nee Goldstein. American (and British) Witch, former Director of Magical Security for MACUSA. Wife to Newt Scamander, and thus adoptive Grandmother to Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re approaching the end of this part of the series. This chapter sets up for the big climax of the next one.

Walking along the road heading up to the Castle, Tina was reminded of the last time that she had visited the British school. The occasion – her oldest daughter Artemis’ graduation from Hogwarts, back in ‘69.

_That was over twenty-five years ago,_ she mused as she walked, _but the school looks just the same as it did back then._

Just like on her previous visit, summer had arrived in Northern Scotland prior to their visit, and the fields and forests around the castle were a riot of green. Beside them, the lake shimmered in the bright sunlight, a cloudless sky an excellent omen for the day.

As honorary grandmother – family – Tina and Newt beside her had been invited to spend the day with Harry before evening’s big event.

Catching sight of the Streamer, parked in the shade of the forest off to her right, Tina waved at the students out enjoying the rare sunny day. With exams finished, all that remained for the students to do was wait for the closing event of the Tournament – well, that and hang out with friends, old and new.

A copper head glinted in the sunlight as Penny jumped up from the blanket where she sat and ran over to give her grandparents a hug.

“Hey Gran Tina, Papa!” she said, excited. “Here for the big event?”

Tina smiled. Clearly, her granddaughter was enjoying her time at Hogwarts. “We are indeed. The Tournament officials invited family members to come in early and spend the day with their Champions.”

Penny laughed. “I know. Gabby has told everyone – except Fleur – that ‘Maman et Papa visitent’. She was nearly vibrating at breakfast this morning.”

“Gabby?”

“Ah,” Penny blushed, “forgot you wouldn’t know. Gabby – Gabrielle Delacour – is the Beauxbatons Champion’s little sister. Since Fleur and Ingrid are dating, we’ve spent lots of time with her. She’s only ten – well, eleven now, ten when we first met – which makes her a little isolated here. She’s so much younger than the other Beauxbatons students, and is even younger than the youngest of the Hogwarts students.”

“That’s right, Beauxbatons starts a year earlier than Hogwarts, doesn’t it.”

“Yup.”

“Well, it’s nice that you’ve reached out to her, then.”

“Oh, it’s great. She’s kind of become everyone’s baby sister.” Penny gave a sly grin. “You should watch her with Harry, though, it’s pretty adorable. She has the most massive crush on him, especially since the Second Task.”

Tina and Newt both laughed at that, unsurprised. Younger children loved Harry; he was a protector, a reaction to his own childhood trauma. Penny’s younger brothers and cousins, as well as the younger Blacks, followed him around like Mooncalves during the Clan gatherings.

“He’s her hero, then?” Tina asked.

“Yeah. Her Chevalier Serpent.”

“Parseltongue?”

“Yup, she thinks it makes him sound très mysteriéux.” Penny giggled.

“I’m looking forward to it, then.”

They reached the bridge that leads into the entry courtyard, and Tina can’t resist glancing down into the chasm. Despite the warm weather, its depths are still covered in fog. If she remembers correctly, the fog is most likely an Enchantment and a part of the Castle’s defences.

Looking at the fog triggers another of Tina’s memories, this one of the first time that Newt had brought her to meet his old professor.

 

* * *

 

 

_“But what’s down there,” Tina asked as she peered into the fog. On this misty morning, it nearly reaches the path, and a lighter fog surrounds the Castle, making it feel haunted._

_“Well, the school’s legends say that it’s the lair of Hogwarts’ mysterious protector. No one knows exactly what’s down there, though some say that is must be a dragon. After all, Hogwarts’ motto is_ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus _or ‘Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon’. They say that the motto refers to the protector. When I was a student here, I tried to solve the mystery, but never managed to find anything.”_

_He paused, and then grinned. “You know, the fog never entirely disappears, even on clear, sunny days. I think it’s the Castle herself, wanting to keep her foundations under wraps.”_

_“Ha, ha,” Tina groaned. “Your sense of humour sometimes.”_

_“But Queenie says she likes it.”_

_“Queenie is just too nice to say otherwise.”_

_Their bickering was interrupted by the very person that they came to visit._

_“My dear Newt, it is wonderful to see you!” The Wizard called out as he approached. For the most part, Dumbledore is dressed like Tina’s old professors from Ilvermorny, sturdy clothing in muted colours and traditional cuts. However, he does wear one startling piece, a waistcoat in a rather atrocious combination of red and green with a moving pattern of dancing Nifflers._

_Tearing her eyes away from the monstrosity, Tina caught sight of sharp eyes and a deceptively relaxed air. Clearly, Dumbledore has adopted the persona of eccentric professor as camouflage._

_“Tina Goldstein. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Newt speaks of you often.”_

_“As he does you as well,” came the response, making Tina flush. She knew that Newt’s letters doubtless discussed her help on his adventures, but still, her affection – It’s not a crush, Queenie – for the bumbling Magizoologist was embarrassing at times._

_“Nothing too negative, I hope?”_

_“Indeed not. Newt tells me that you and your sister have become excellent allies.”_

_“What was that?” Newt asked, from where he stood with a Phoenix – Fawkes if Tina remembered correctly – on his arm. He had clearly been distracted from listening to the conversation because of his need to check the powerful creature for any sign of injury or ill health._

_“Nothing,” both Tina and the older Wizard replied._

_“Just getting acquainted,” Tina added._

_“Alright.”_

_“Now then, what brings you both here to Hogwarts on such a dreary day?” Dumbledore asked._

_“Tina is here visiting from America for some kind of Auror meeting,” Newt responded, “and Hogwarts came up yesterday at dinner with ‘Zeus. He was describing his own experience with the school, which as you know was quite different from mine…”_

_Dumbledore smiled. “I am sure, though I have to admit that I only knew your brother as a fellow Gryffindor student, not as a teacher, since our years here overlapped.”_

_“Of course,” Newt nodded, accepting the correction._

_“Anyways, I thought, since it’s the weekend, that we’d pop up here for a visit while the students are down in the village.”_

_“Well, I am delighted to have you both here to visit.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Tina was drawn from her musings by the touch of Newt’s arm.

“It is nice to visit the old girl again,” he said with a smile.

“Sure,” she agreed, “especially when it comes with a chance to embarrass our grandchildren in front of their friends.”

Wrapping her arm around his, she claimed a quick peck before following the waving Penny into the courtyard and from there into an atrium off to one side of Hogwarts’ main entry.

Once inside, Tina and Newt found that they were the last of the family groups to arrive at Hogwarts. The space was filled with both families and school representatives, though it appeared that the Champions themselves had yet to arrive.

Looking around, Tina dismissed the couple standing directly opposite the door almost immediately. The man fit the mould of a mid-level Ministry bureaucrat perfectly, while the woman’s wardrobe and carriage simply emanated ‘housewitch’. They were almost certainly the parents of the Hogwarts Champion – Diggory. Tina had heard enough complaints about the elder Diggory’s attitudes and politics, especially his opinion on werewolves, to make her uninterested in socializing with them.

In contrast, the blonde woman standing to the right of the entry chatting with Percy, one who had an obvious bodyguard stationed by the wall behind her, was much more interesting. The Witch, apparently a contemporary of Tina’s daughter Artemis in age, posture, and dress, was likely Apolline Delacour. Even though the part-Veela wasn’t actively radiating her allure, she still drew attention. If Tina weren’t confident in her partners’ love, she would be inclined to feel jealous of the beautiful woman.

Naturally, Tina and Newt headed in that direction. Meanwhile, Penny peeled off  from them to talk to one of the other students waiting in the hall. Given the large mass of curly hair, the girl was likely Hermione Granger, the little Witch who had enchanted the Durmstrang Champion and become friends with her granddaughters. Krum had likely asked her to come by so that he could introduce her to his parents, an intimidating proposition.

 “Bonjour,” she said when she reached Percy and the woman, leaning over to give him a peck as she claimed his arm. “I am Tina Scamander, and this is my husband Newt. I see that you’ve already met our other partner, Percy.”

“But of course,” the woman replied, smiling at Tina’s possessive claim. Doubtless she was well accustomed to such behaviour from other women. “Bonjour, indeed, Madame Scamander. I  ‘ave been looking forward to meeting zee family of my eldest’s new amour. I know zat Mademoiselle Ingrid has helped her survive in zis land. She speaks quite highly of your grandson, young ‘arry as well, of course. I am Apolline Delacour.”

Before she could say more, there was a shriek from the entry, and a blonde streak came flying over to the group. Even as her bodyguard tensed and drew his wand, Madame Delacour held out her arms, recognizing the sound.

The streak resolved into a tiny blonde girl, dressed in blue with beribboned plaits. The girl had run straight into the Witch, babbling excitedly in French. “Maman, Maman!” was all that Tina could understand of the child’s rapid speech.

“Gabrielle!” Madame Delacour spoke calmly, in direct contrast to her excited daughter. “Ça suffit!”

The flow of words slowed, as the little spitfire realized that her mother was not alone. She blushed as she turned to look at Tina and the rest. “Gabrielle, vous connaissez déjà Monsieur Graves. Ce sont ses conjoints, Monsieur et Madame Scamander. Madame, Monsieur, zis is my younger daughter, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle dipped in a surprisingly elegant curtsy, before asking, “You are um… la grand-mère et le grand-père d'Ingrid et de Rolf?”

“Yes, we are,” Newt replied, kneeling down to reach her level. He really was the best of them when it came to younger children. “As well as Harry, Penny, and many others. If you like, you may call me Uncle Newt.” He pulled a Hippogriff feather out of his pocket and handed it to Gabrielle. “I got this from Ingrid’s favourite Hippogriff, Dawnslight, just this morning. It matches your hair.”

“Merci,” Gabrielle said shyly, before turning back to her mother.

“Yes, zat was very kind,” Apolline agreed with a smile.

“Not at all,” Newt replied. “After all, our families have already become connected, have we not.”

“Indeed. As such, you all must call me Apolline.”

“And I am Tina.”

 

When the Champions finally arrived, Harry immediately rushed over to his grandparents, trailing both Remus and Pads – in his human form for now – as he went.

“Papa! Gran Tina!” He called, giving both of them a hug. “You came!”

“Of course little Harry. We couldn’t miss your big day, now could we?” Tina replied, as Newt ruffled Harry’s eternally messy locks.

“Besides, you know that the odds of something extra happening today are very high,” Percy added from the seat that he’d conjured earlier. Pads had come to stand beside his adopted father.

“True, but we’re not talking about that right now, dad,” Pads said with a grin. “Today is a day for fun!”

“And we have a treat for you,” Harry agreed. “But not yet, right now we’d best go meet the rest of the families. I have an Ingrid to tease.”

 

It wasn’t until after lunch that Harry, Pads and the rest showed off their little surprise.

When Harry led the group, which included Tina and Newt, as well as Pads, Remus, Rolf, and even more confusingly, Hogwarts’ Professor Rubeus Hagrid, up the main staircase to the second floor, Tina was perplexed.

“Harry, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Heading down a corridor, Harry led the party through a large wooden door that opened into a lavatory, a women’s lavatory.

Catching sight of Tina’s disturbed face, Harry giggled. “Don’t worry, there’s a good reason I’ve brought a bunch of men in here.”

Harry walked over to the sinks and stopping at one particular faucet, let out a hiss of Parseltongue.

At the sound, the entire bank of sinks began to move and shift. In the space that they left behind, a passageway was revealed, sloping sharply downward. A second hissed phrase and the passage developed a set of spiral stairs.

 “Shall we, my dear?” Newt asked, gesturing towards where the rest of their party had already started descending.

“Indeed, we shall.” Tina claimed her husband’s arm, and they made their way down.

 

At the base of the stairs, Tina found a large tunnel, lit with a sequence of witch lights. In the artificial light, she could see a collection of animal skeletons laid out along one side of the tunnel, leaving a clear path for visitors to walk. The skeletons were from a wide variety of animals – rodents, birds, and even a few that looked like cats/kneazels or dogs/crups – and looked quite old.

“Is this the lair of some… creature?” Tina asked the others.

“Sort of,” replied Harry, with a smirk. “From what we’ve been able to determine, this is the secret passage leading to Salazar Slytherin’s legendary Chamber of Secrets.” He held up his arms, as if to say ‘Ta da’.

“And the beast?” Newt asked eagerly. “Have you found Slytherin’s monster, then?”

“Not… entirely,” Harry admitted with a shrug. “You’ll see.”

As they reached the end of the lights, Tina nearly jumped. What looked like a massive serpent lay along the side of the tunnel. It had to be at least 6 feet across and a few dozen feet long.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a shed skin,” Remus commented from where he walked beside her. “Harry hasn’t managed to bring the creature itself out of where it’s being kept yet.”

“A… Basilisk!” Newt exclaimed, excited. “And an ancient one too given the size of that skin.”

“Yup. We think it is the original monster that Slytherin placed here.” Harry waved towards the side of the tunnel, where a massive circular door stood, covered with carvings of snakes and sealed shut.

“Unlike upstairs, I haven’t been able to determine the Parseltongue password used to seal the door yet. We think it’s some long phrase, as a few words make the Ward magic for lack of a better word, twitch.”

“However,” Remus added, “we have been able to confirm that this is the Chamber of Secrets.” He waved towards the tunnel wall directly opposite the door. Carved into the wall was a plaque written in Old English. “We’ve managed to translate the inscription, and it explains that the Basilisk is intended as a part of the Castle’s defence. If the Wards detect an army with hostile intent passing through them, the door will unseal, releasing the beast onto the grounds to take it out. Sadly, it seems that someone must have accessed the Chamber before, as the original Parseltongue password – defend – no longer works.”

From where he stood beside Newt and Rolf, showing the older Wizard the details of the shed skin, Professor Hagrid snorted. “Likely it were Tom Riddle that done it,” he stated with certainty. “Tha’ bastard fingered me an’ Aragog fer the deed, after he used the puir beastie ta kill one a’ tha’ other students back when we were in school fifty years ago.”

Remus sighed, and nodded. “Poor Myrtle. She’s how we ended up locating this place. Harry there, being his usual chivalrous self, was comforting the poor ghost child after Hogwarts’ dratted poltergeist upset her back in March. When he asked her why she was haunting the school, she told him of her death, killed by a pair of huge yellow eyes.”

“That started a research binge,” Pads said with a snicker. “Harry recruited Ingrid and some of the others, and we managed to put together a pretty good picture of what must have happened. Of course, Myrtle has developed a little bit of a crush on our pup, here…” he ruffled Harry’s hair for a moment before the boy shoved him off. “And is a proud member of the Harry Potter fan club, alongside Gabby and a large number of the other younger girls. She’s also become part of Ingrid and Fleur’s collection of ducklings, despite her state.”

Harry winced. “She told me last night that if I die in the Tournament tonight that she would be happy to share ‘her toilet’.”

That made all of the adults in the tunnel laugh, despite the slightly morbid thought.

 “So,” Tina asked after a moment, “what do you plan to do about your discovery? I assume that the rest of the Hogwarts staff is aware?”

“Of course,” Remus said, as by his side Hagrid nodded. “I believe that the Hogwarts Headmaster is intending to hire a Gringotts team to take over the investigation during the summer holiday. He has been most gracious in allowing our participation in the initial investigation.” Remus’ smile turned wry. “It helped that Harry is the only Parselmouth at the school right now.”

“Yeah. We thought Papa Newt would like a chance to see what we’ve found,” Harry added. “Since Basilisk creation is banned throughout the world, this is likely the only chance we’ll have to study such creatures, especially one that is over a millennia in age.”

“And I do appreciate it,” Newt commented absently, his focus on the skin before him. He had already pulled out one of his ever-present notebooks, and was jotting down notes.

Tina resigned herself to spending at least the next couple of hours down in the tunnel. Remus obviously agreed, as he conjured up a pair of armchairs for them to relax in while watching the others. “So tell me,” he asked. “How are things at the Reserve with so many of us gone?”

 

“How are you feeling, Harry dear?” Tina asked as they headed out of the Castle. It was now after dinner, and the hour was rapidly approaching for the Task to begin. Walking along the grounds, Harry and his family made their way towards Hogwarts’ Quidditch Pitch. Inside, the hedge maze that the Champions had to navigate for the final Task had been grown. “Do you think you’re ready for the Challenge?”

“I think so, Gran,” Harry replied. “We’ve been practicing pretty hard, and Paddy figures that all the time learning about Creatures with Papa Newt and the rest will be a big help. I’m more worried about the other Champions, to be honest,” he added, “especially Krum. If he decides that the best way to win is to take out the competition, I’m not sure I have the skill to beat him. Grandfather Percy has told me stories of his great-grandfather and the family’s skills in that arena. Plus, Ingrid and Rolf warned me that he’s known as one of Durmstrang’s top duellists.”

“Don’t worry so much, cub,” Remus commented from his place on the other side of the boy. “Whatever happens, we’re all so proud of your achievements.”

“I know, Uncle Remus, I know.”

Sirius, now returned to his Padfoot form, nudged Harry with his nose, obviously seconding his friend’s words through their link. Harry rubbed the dog Animagus’ head lightly, “Thanks, Paddy.”

Despite a decade watching the pair, Tina was still in awe of the younger Wizard’s watchful instincts and care of his young charge. Pads had truly embraced his role of Guardian Godparent turned father, going far above and beyond what even the most protective of parents could have asked or expected.

 

When they reached the Quidditch Pitch, Harry and Padfoot broke off from the rest of the group. Unlike their family and friends, who were headed up into the stand to claim their seats, Harry was off to one of the Quidditch team changing rooms. The space had been repurposed for the Tournament and had been set up as the Champion’s waiting room. Padfoot accompanied him. The Wizard – as a service animal – had been granted special permission to wait at the entry to the Maze while his owner completed the Task. The position gave him the most direct access to his charge in case of an emergency.

Meanwhile, as a part of Harry’s family, Tina and Newt were granted seats up in the VIP section of the stands. Their Box, the Family Box, stood directly opposite the Pitch from the one where the Tournament Judges and Foreign Dignitaries were perched.

As she looked over at the Judges box, Tina smothered a laugh before gesturing to draw her husband’s attention towards the sight.

“Dumbledore’s feeling miffed,” she said with a chuckle as she pointed out the Hogwarts Headmaster. While his face did not show the emotion, the stiffness of his body language gave away his agitation. “It looks like Percy and Madame Maxime are monopolizing the attention of the visiting foreign dignitaries, while he’s left with only Karkaroff.”

“Eet is true,” came a polished voice from Tina’s other side. Apolline Delacour had joined them in the Family Box. “Philippe ees most displeased with zis Tournament’s Tasks, and ze clear bias zat they showed against our Fleur. Besides,” she sniffed, “Ze ‘Ogwarts ‘Eadmaster has not been ze best host, while your espouse has been quite…” Here she hesitated, seeking the right phrase. “Supportive of our citizens, and faithful to ze alliance zat our two countries have established.”

“It helps that your Fleur is dating one of our grandchildren,” Tina commented with a mild smile.

“Exactement,” Apolline agreed. “Not zat I think our new… friendship… is ze sole responsibility of ma Cherie and her amour.”

“Agreed,” Tina nodded. “I think we’re all tired of Albion, and Dumbledore, running roughshod in their International practices, especially in recent years.”     

“Yes,” the elegant half-Veela nodded towards the Judges Box. “And Minister Fudge is also feeling ze burn, zho he ees making an effort.”

Unlike the Headmaster, who was pretending to be oblivious to the situation, the British Minister of Magic was actively hovering in an attempt to insert himself into the group of foreign dignitaries that were conversing with Percy and the Beauxbatons Headmistress.

“Very true.” The two Witches exchanged conspiratorial smiles as Ludo Bagman stood, taking position in the announcer’s box.

“Ladies and Gentlebeings. Witches, Wizards, and children, it is my great honour to welcome you all to the Third and Final Task of this momentous Quad-Wizard Tournament! Over the past eight months, we have seen our Champions face fire-breathing foes, solve mysteries, and conduct daring rescues. And now, all of their hard work and training has led to this, our grand Finale!”

Bagman gestured towards the centre of the maze, where the audience could see the lights of the stadium glinting off the massive Tournament Cup. It stood on a plinth, in a small clearing at the centre of the pitch, surrounded on all sides by the high walls of the hedge maze.

“To receive the title of Tournament Champion, our competitors must make their way through the depths of the maze to be the first to reach the Cup. Inside the passages of our Tournament Maze, the Champions will face a number of trials. These include powerful Beasts, Magical Traps, and, of course, each other.”

“Based on the Champions’ performances in the previous Tasks, their rankings are as follows: In fourth place is our local Champion, Hogwarts’ Cedric Diggory, with seventy-two points. In third place is the powerful Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang, with seventy-nine points. In second place, we have the beautiful Fleur Delacour, representing Beauxbatons, with eighty-three points. Finally, in first place, we have our youngest Champion and Britain’s boy saviour, Harry Potter of Ilvermorny with an astonishing eighty-nine points.”

With the announcement of each Champion came a roar from the crowds, as the audience cheered on their favourite competitor. At the same time, the Champions themselves stepped out from their waiting area, and bowed to the Judges. All four looked impressively martial, in duelling robes similar to the costumes that Tina had seen in the photos from the First Task. They looked ready to do battle.

As the Tournament proctors escorted each Champion to a different entry point – there was one placed at each corner of the Maze – Bagman continued speaking.

“In recognition of their scores on the previous Tasks, Champions will enter in the order of their standing. Thus, Mister Potter will be the first to enter the Arena. The remainder of the Champions will be delayed by thirty seconds for every point below the highest score. So, Mademoiselle Delacour will enter three minutes after Mister Potter, and then Mister Krum will follow two minutes later, and finally Mister Diggory will enter eight and a half minutes after Mister Potter.”

Tina found herself watching Harry, Padfoot, and their proctor, who she recognized as ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, former British Auror and current Hogwarts’ Defence Professor. _He’s looking his age, and worse, these days,_ she mused as she watched the Wizard stomp along beside Harry. _Odd, though, he doesn’t move like that lunatic used to, back when Theseus took him under his wing. Though, I suppose that it could be that peg leg of his._

She leant back in her seat, thinking of the brash Wizard who she’d first met in the clean-up after the Grindelwald War.

At the time he’d been a new Auror, fresh from the Academy. ‘Zeus had agreed to take the younger Wizard as his partner as ‘Zeus transitioned from being a Warrior to being a Peacekeeper. The Ministry at the time had thought that a rookie partner would keep the Old War Thestral from being too aggressive in tracking down Grindelwald’s collaborators among Britain’s Noble Families. Unfortunately for them, the opposite had occurred. ‘Zeus had inculcated the younger Wizard to his point of view, including Moody’s catch-phrase of ‘Constant Vigilance’.

Tina had heard from her brother-in-law about how guilty the younger Wizard had felt after the Death Eater attack on the Scamander Estate back in ’74 had done such damage, including the curse on poor Demi. Moody had lost his leg during that affair, but still managed to blame himself instead of the true culprits. His passion for taking down ‘Death Eater Scum’ had been extreme ever since.

Lost in reminiscence, Tina had lost some of Bagman’s speech, but she was drawn back in as the man wrapped up his opening remarks.

“…and, without further ado. At your mark,” down in the field Harry shifted position, preparing to run, “get set,” Harry tensed his shoulders and drew his wand, as Padfoot stepped back a pace, “…and go.”

With a blast of sound from Bagman’s wand, Harry took off into the Maze. Above him, a countdown clock appeared high above the centre of the Maze, its shapes formed from ribbons of glowing light.

“When the numbers reach zero, it will be Mademoiselle Delacour’s turn to enter the Maze,” Bagman announced in explanation before beginning his narration of Harry’s journey.

Thanks to their seats high above the Pitch’s surface, Tina and the others could easily see the gaps in the hedge that marked the various paths through the Maze. Though the walls of the Maze were too tall for the spectators to see the competitors directly, they could generally track their positions via the motion from the hedges response to the invaders.

Harry reached his first obstacle just as the blast sounded, allowing the second Champion into the Maze. According to Bagman’s narration, it was some kind of pit trap, filled with Devil’s Snare, which Harry had to cross without becoming ensnared by the plants.

“And young Mister Potter once again demonstrates his preference for flying, pulling a shrunken broomstick from inside his robes.” Bagman announced. There was a burst of golden light that emanated from Harry’s position, as the man continued. “And, remembering his Herbology lessons, the young Champion has set off a blast of _lumos solem_ , taming the obstacle while jumping the chasm. For those of you in the audience who might be thinking of how they would use the broom as a shortcut, the top of the Maze is Warded to prevent such tricks. The Champions must make their way through the Maze to reach the Cup.”

Bagman’s narration grew confused, as the rest of the Champions entered the Maze. He bounced between Champions, growing particularly excited when there were multiple participants facing challenges at the same time. Meanwhile, Harry was making excellent progress, conquering several challenges: a Mountain Troll, a section of the Maze contaminated with acid mist, and even, to Tina and Newt’s amusement, a Hippogriff, who Harry had to persuade to let him pass. Naturally, that particular challenge was no trouble at all.

Then came the moment that many in the audience had been anticipating and dreading in equal measure – contact between Champions. Coming to a three-way intersection from opposite directions, when Fleur and Viktor spotted each other, they immediately began to duel.

Cedric and Harry, off in separate sections of the Maze, were neglected by Bagman as he gave a shriek before attempting to narrate the duel.

 “And Krum takes command of the situation immediately, launching a spell chain, _adflictio-incarcerous-stupefy_.” – _An old triad, commonly used in melee fighting, -_ “But Delacour manages to dodge, ducking behind the curve of the Maze. Unfortunately for her, the hedge is not solid, allowing a partial hit from the _stupefy._ She is clearly affected, and stumbles in place. Recovering, Delacour launches return fire with an _exardesco_ , a literal fireball hex. He counters with _glacius_ , freezing the flame in its tracks. Spectacular! The explosion of fire and ice throws up steam, making it hard for the Champions to see.”

“Both Delacour and Krum move closer, attempting to locate their opponent. Krum acts first, with another spell chain, _depulso-bombarda-bombarda_. It hits!” Tina heard a piercing scream from Fleur, as the French Witch collapsed. Apparently, the chain did some damage. “Delacour is down! Krum has hit her with one final hex, a _stupefy_ , leaving her unconscious.”

A burst of red fireworks shot up from the Maze, marking the spot where the Beauxbatons Champion fell.

“It looks like Delacour is out of the running. Three Champions left.”

Meanwhile Harry had apparently been riddling with a Sphinx during the duel as Bagman announced, “and Potter has solved the Sphinx’s riddle. He’s in the home stretch.”

Even as Bagman made his announcement, Tina spotted her grandson. Emerging from one of the Maze’s many passages into the central clearing, Harry’s robes were dirty and torn, and his exposed skin was reddened and covered in scratches, but he appeared otherwise uninjured. On his back, the broom that he’d used earlier was strapped into a harness for easy access. It was a common practice for Wizards and Witches doing fieldwork.

All around the perimeter of the stadium, the crowds yelled and screamed their excitement.

“While his competitors were busy battling each other, our youngest Champion has reached the Cup!”

Bagman’s narration was almost drowned out by the excited screams.

“But wait, here comes Diggory!”

On the other side of the clearing, the Hogwarts Champion had appeared. He stopped for a moment, adjusting to the brighter light, before catching sight of Harry. At that point, Tina’s grandson had nearly reached the Cup.

Distracted by his competitor, Diggory failed to realize that there was a massive Acromantula creeping up behind him. Making its way along the upper part of the passage, the beast was about to drop down onto the unsuspecting Champion.

Diggory’s parents, seated in front of Tina, were in a panic. Mrs. Diggory was hunched over, her face hidden in her hands, as Mr. Diggory screamed – “Cedric! LOOK OUT! Behind you!”

Of course, as Tina well knew, the Wizard’s attempt to warn his son was useless. The Wards on the Maze include noise blockers, designed to keep the interior of the Maze separate from the outside world. Still, she understood the impulse.

Down in the Maze, Harry reached the Cup, espying the other Champion and his situation. Leaning around the stone plinth holding the Cup, he fired off an _arania exumai_ – blasting the Acromantula away from the Diggory boy. As he did so, Harry snagged the handle of the Cup in an obvious attempt to stop his fall.

Ironically, his action had the opposite effect. Both boy and Cup compress to a point and then vanish.

“And once again, Mister Potter shows caring and skill in equal measure, defending his competition and claiming victory simultaneously!” Proclaimed Bagman, continuing his commentary.

Down in the clearing Diggory, alerted by Harry’s spell, turned to his foe. As he dealt with the attacking Acromantula, the audience turned toward the podium standing at one end of the Pitch. It was there that the Cup is supposed to deliver the Tournament Champion via portkey.

From their place in the stands behind said podium, the Hogwarts band started up a jaunty tune, a counterpoint to the screaming crowd.

But Harry failed to appear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to ten chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies   
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-10 – Character Biographies   
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Siblings Queenie, Theseus, Queenie’s husband Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families  
> • Chapter 8 – Important Blacks of Newt/Percy/Tina’s generation and before  
> • Chapter 9 – Black Cousins Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus and some of their families  
> • Chapter 10 – Significant non-family adult Allies


	12. Unrevealed Contamination May Cause Unforeseen Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our villains’ careful scheme has reached its climax, but what happens when your chosen victim isn’t what he seems?  
> POV Character – Harry Potter aka Harrison Grim. British (and American) Wizard, named ‘the-boy-who-lived’ by the British press, he is also an Obscurial and the adoptive son of Patrick Grim/Sirius Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the big moment! What does the existence of Harry’s parasite do to the Dark Lord’s plans? The idea of the scene at the end here was the initial inspiration for this part of the series.

As the spinning of the portkey stopped, Harry hit the ground with a thud. The fall begun inside the Maze was complete.

 _Ow!_ The impact with the ground had jarred his arm.

Harry lost his grip on the heavy Cup, which sent it spinning off away from him. From his position in the dirt, Harry watched the thing tumble down the grassy slope for a few meters, before it came to a stop beside a large stone.

 _That’s a gravestone,_ Harry thought with a hysterical giggle. _Somehow, I don’t think that we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto_.

Thinking of Toto, Harry reached into his core for a moment. He tugged on the bond, the permanent link between him and his Paddy. It was still there; still strong, but stretched quite far, veering off North and East.

That portkey must have taken him far from Hogwarts.

Harry’s internal investigation was interrupted by the sound of a large snake moving through the ground towards him. Hampered by his rough landing and awkward position, Harry was unable to escape before the snake had him in its grasp.

He heard a quavering voice from behind him say “ _Stupefy_ ,” and then everything went dark.

 

Harry’s return to consciousness came gradually. The first thing that he noticed was the uncomfortable position. He was seated on the ground, with his back against some kind of hard surface, his head bowed. A few subtle twitches confirmed that he was bound in the position. Where his fingers could touch them, the ropes matched the texture of _incarcerous_ bonds.

While Harry kept his eyes shut, his ears were working normally. In front of him, he could hear someone mumbling while carrying on business.

$Ssstupid rat,$ a sibilant voice spoke from behind him, making Harry jump. $He does not notice Masstersss prey hass woken.$

The snake that had grabbed him earlier slithered across his lap, forcing Harry to open his eyes in reflex. As a Parselmouth, Harry was usually quite comfortable with reptiles, both Magical and Mundane, but there was something about this beast. She had some of the physical characteristics of a Mundane Black Mamba, the dark brown colouring and a black mouth that Harry glimpsed as she spoke. However, she was far longer and wider than the typical breed, and her aura was saturated with Black Magic, no doubt due to her Master.

Harry’s parasite could sense threats to its host, and this beast’s presence was making the Obscurus shift from its place deep inside his Magic.

$Rat,$ the beast hissed again, and then shot off Harry’s lap. Following the creature’s motion, Harry couldn’t help but look up to watch as she raised her head and hissed in a threat display. Her target: a stooped figure swathed in a large black cloak.

Now that he could no longer pretend to be unconscious, Harry took a moment to assess his situation as he’d been trained to do.

His current location was dark and foggy, but a handful of witch lights had been hung around to illuminate the area. In their dim light, Harry could see a large number of stone shapes – tombstones. It appeared that he hadn’t been moved far from where the portkey had dropped him. In fact, Harry’s eyes caught a glint of light off to one side of the foggy space. It was the Cup!

Resting against one of the tombstones, the gold and crystal object looked out of place in the dank atmosphere of the graveyard. Still, it reminded Harry that someone back at Hogwarts was a threat. After all, the portkey had to have been re-set from its original destination.

Turning his attention back to the snake and its presumed Master, Harry found that the Wizard had lost the hood covering his head. With his face turned away from Harry, all the teen could see was thinning ash blonde hair, which was long enough that its ends were hidden by the folded over hood.

He was muttering something, presumably a variation on _wingardium leviosa._ As he spoke, a massive cauldron emerged from inside a nearby crypt. The thing was enormous, large enough to fit a full grown man inside its thick walls. It came to a stop over the fire at the centre of the clearing where Harry was bound. A trio of legs extending from the base of the cauldron held it suspended above the fire.

 _That looks far too much like old Scourer propaganda,_ Harry thought grimly, reminded of his History classes. _It’s Wizards like this man who give our people a bad name._

As the man completed his task of settling the cauldron, he looked over at Harry. Surprised, the younger Wizard let out a gasp.

_Wormtail!_

After scenting the rat back in August, Paddy and Uncle Remus had showed Harry photos of the traitor. They wanted to make sure that their charge would recognize the Wizard if he ever re-emerged.

The sight had Harry reaching out down the link to his Paddy, a task that required substantial Magical effort given the distance.

 _Paddy!_ He called.

_Pup, is that you!?_

_Paddy, it’s Peter!_

_What?_

_The man who has me prisoner, it’s Wormtail. I just recognized him._

_Has he hurt you?_

_Not that I’ve noticed. He stupefied me earlier, but now I’m just tied up in front of him._

Through their link, Harry could feel his Paddy’s fury at the news.

_Pup, we’re coming. That link of ours makes a wonderful compass. You just have to hold out until we get there._

_No problem,_ Harry reassured him.

 _Don’t go ghost unless it’s absolutely necessary,_ Paddy added. _We don’t want to reveal our secret weapon too early._

As Harry’s attention was focused inward, the ratty Wizard had apparently completed whatever he was brewing. Steam arose, obscuring Wormtail’s features, as the mixture in the cauldron boiled and sparked.

“It is ready, Master,” the Wizard spoke clearly for the first time since Harry’s awakening.

“Now…” a high, cold voice came from the ground where the massive snake was now coiled. Wormtail reached down, and extracted a monster from the centre of the coil.

In shape and size, the creature was similar to a human toddler, but there the resemblance ended. The monster’s skin was serpent-like and covered in scales, though their colour and condition were such that the thing appeared to have been burned while shedding, as the scales were cracked and raw, with a reddish tint to the black. The serpent features didn’t end there, as the thing’s face was almost snake-like in its flat nose and red eyes, and it lacked any hint of hair.

 _Urgh,_ Harry suppressed a desire to throw up. He was reminded of the stories that Uncle Remus used to tell, of Changelings left in cribs after children were stolen by the Fey. This thing looked like what might be hidden under the Changeling’s disguise. _Nasty._

To Harry’s surprise given how Wormtail had addressed the thing, the snivelling Wizard carried the creature over to the cauldron where he had been working and, with little fanfare, dropped it into the roiling potion.

There was a thud as it hit the bottom of the cauldron, and a fresh batch of sparks flew up as the cauldron’s contents roiled further.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son.”

As Wormtail spoke, he waved his wand at the grave beside where Harry was bound. The surface of the grave began to shift, as if something deep below was trying to escape.

_Zombie!_

Harry couldn’t help the thought. Some of his friends at Ilvermorny had introduced him to the Mundane version of Inferi the year before, after their Defence professor had covered the cursed creatures in their class. _Is it just going to be a skeleton, or are we going to hear calls for brains?_

However, what emerged wasn’t an actual body; it was merely a stream of dust. Reading the gravestone, Harry realized that the inhabitant had been dead for fifty some odd years. _I guess the body would be little more than bone by now ._

The dust – bone fragments – streamed through the air before showering onto the surface of the potion. In response, the bubbles on the roiling surface popped, as their agitation intensified. At the same time, in the dim light the surface took on an oily blue sheen, reminiscent of the skin of poison tree frogs that Harry had seen in the Amazon jungle.

Turning his attention back to Wormtail, Harry could see that the man was pale and sweating. He pulled out a silver athame, and with a whimper sobbed his way through a second ritual phrase.

“Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master.”

With his right hand outstretched over the cauldron, Wormtail tightened his grip on the athame, raised his left hand, and swung.

Harry winced, but refused to look away. The dagger cut through Wormtail’s flesh like butter, no doubt Magically sharpened to ensure a clean cut.

Wormtail collapsed on the ground beside the cauldron, sobbing with pain, as a flare of red burst upwards.

_If Paddy’s nearby, he has to have spotted that._

Sure enough, there was a nudge inside Harry’s mind.

_Pup? What was that?_

_It was Wormtail. He’s doing some kind of weird ritual. Paddy, he just cut off his own arm!_

In his distraction, Harry had failed to notice the other Wizard crawling towards him. Reaching between the _incarcerous_ bonds, Wormtail jabbed the athame into Harry’s arm just below the elbow. A small dribble of blood flowed out, as the Wizard dropped the athame and took up his wand in his sole remaining hand.

With a wave, the blood removed from Harry’s vein flew towards the cauldron as Wormtail spoke a final phrase.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.”

This time the flash that emerged was a blinding white, a pillar of light that dispersed the steam and fog shrouding Harry’s view.

_Pup!?!_

_Last piece of the ritual, I think. This time that bastard used a bit of my blood._

_Necromancy,_ Paddy’s mental tone was furious. _Pup, there’s a Ward up around an old graveyard. I assume that’s where you are?_

_Sounds right. Wait, something’s happening._

Harry interrupted his mental conversation to focus on the sight before him. The cauldron was now pumping out masses of white smoke, which once again obscured the area around Harry. Through the smoke, he could see a shadowy figure rise up.

 _There’s someone emerging from the cauldron,_ he sent, startled. Harry could hear Paddy’s frustration as he threw his Magic against the Ward, needing to be by his son’s side.

Harry had missed the thing’s first words, since his attention was focused on the shadowy visual and the response from his parasite. His Obscurus was almost gleeful this time and Harry could feel an echo, as if the thing before him also bore the same burden.

The smoke cleared, and Harry could finally make out the details of the figure that had climbed from the cauldron. As it did so, the feeling from Harry’s Obscurus finally registered.

_Hold on, Paddy, don’t panic yet. I think… I think our mysterious homunculus is in for a surprise._

_What?_   Paddy’s mental voice was full of confusion. Clearly, the malicious glee that Harry was projecting had shocked his Guardian. _Harry-pup, you do realize who that thing must be, right?_

_Voldemort? Yeah, but I know something it doesn’t._

Before Paddy could respond, the figure spoke.

“Harry Potter,” it said. Like the serpent features that had carried over from the earlier Changeling form, Voldemort’s voice held a hint of a hiss. Presumably, the vocal tic had carried over from its Parseltongue skills and the use of its Familiar at some stage of the ritual.

Deliberately calling up his own skills at the snake language, Harry responded.

 $I go by Grim, actually, though I undersstand your confussion. You Britsss do love to make a fusss over that name.$

Voldemort let out a hiss, sounding even more snake-like than before. “You dare inssult me, you pathetic worm.”

Reaching into the pocket of the robe that it had collected upon its emergence from the cauldron, the creature showed off disturbingly long fingers, as it pulled out a pale wand. “Wormtail,” it commanded the sobbing Wizard, “give me your arm.”

“Oh… thank you, Master…” Wormtail replied as he dropped to his knees beside Harry and held up his severed right arm.

“The other one.”

“But…” Wormtail choked back a response. Then he dropped his now sluggishly bleeding stump and offered his left arm up to his Master.

Using its wand, Voldemort pushed Magic into Wormtail’s Dark Mark, turning it from scar-red to an inky black. As it did so, its form rippled, destabilizing for an instant. While the still sobbing Wormtail was far too distracted with his own pain to notice, Harry did – and gave a shark-like grin. He knew what that was…

“Let usss sssee if my ssservantsss are sstill faithful.” Voldemort hissed.

 _Pup,_ Paddy once again spoke. _I just got a message from Lucius. He’s been summoned._

_Good. He can witness._

_What are you up to?_

_Nothing…_

_Well, I hope it’s good. Voldemort is no joke, as you well know._

_I know. But this time it’s made a critical error._

There were a series of flashes. A number of Death Eaters, dressed in their characteristic black robes and white skull masks, Apparated through the Ward.

 _Looks like the Ward Paddy has been banging against is using the Dark Mark as a passkey,_ Harry thought wryly.

They made their way down into the clearing, forming a semi-circle before the Dark Lord. As one of the masked Wizards brushed past Harry’s still bound form, he reached out and gave the teen’s shoulder a squeeze.

 _Uncle Lucius._ Harry thought. He was glad to have at least one friendly person with him inside the Ward.

“Master…” one of the robed figures spoke. “Is that you?”

  
Voldemort hissed, “You fail to recognize me, sservant?”

“No, Master,” the Wizard cried, dropping to his knees. “It’s just, it has been so long…”

_Pup, we’ve got a Goblin Ward-breaker here, ready to break through._

Paddy’s voice was a comforting distraction from Voldemort’s antics. Harry shuddered as the homunculus hit the cowering Wizard with the Cruciatus.

 _Hold on, not yet._ He urged. _Just give it another minute._

 _Why, pup?_ Paddy asked in frustration, but Harry’s attention had been drawn back toward Voldemort.

“Now then, my reluctant ssservants, sssee how those who remain faithful are rewarded. Wormtail.”

Hearing his name, the softly moaning Wizard crawled over to his Master.

“Yes… Master…” he gasped through his tears.

“It isss time. Hold out your arm.”

“Thank you… Thank you…”

_Get ready!_

Harry called to Paddy, as the Dark Wanker’s homunculus raised its wand. A silvery mist formed around Wormtail’s stump, hiding it in a cloud. After a moment, the mist faded, leaving behind a hand of silver.

The gleaming prosthetic drew the eyes of the Death Eaters as they murmured in awe.

Unlike those sycophants, Harry’s attention was focused on the bastard itself. At first, the resurrected Wizard grinned smugly, accepting the accolades as its rightful due. But then its smug expression faltered. Its newly created form pulsed, going intangible for a second.

The monster screamed in pain, a high pitched, inhuman sound, as its wand dropped to the ground. Then the robed form exploded into a dark cloud.

 _Shit, it’s happening too fast._ Harry thought, starting the process of releasing his own passenger.

 _Count to fifteen, and then go!_ He called to Paddy before he surrendered himself to his Obscurus.

 

* * *

 

“Harry… pup…” Paddy’s voice in his ear drew Harry out of his Obscurus state.

He realized that he was lying in his Guardian father’s lap, with the older Wizard running a hand through his hair.

“Paddy,” he said weakly, and then coughed.

“Take it easy, pup,” was the response. “You know how much the transformation takes out of you.” Pads offered him a drink of water, which Harry took gratefully.

“What happened after I went dark?”

“It took us a bit of time to get the Ward down.” Pads admitted, reluctantly. “When we got to the clearing, we found a number of bodies covered in Obscurus damage, including Wormtail. There was a rather massive serpent who looked like it had been ripped apart from the inside, and your Obscurus was there hovering over the whole thing like a guard dog.

“Uncle Lucius?”

Pads smiled. “That’s a bit of good news.” He waved across the clearing, where Harry could see Aunt Andy leaning over a prone figure.

“Lucius said that when Voldie’s homunculus exploded into an Obscurus, your parasite surged up and blocked it from hitting him like it did many of the others. He’s got some minor frost burns, and injuries from being thrown to the ground, but is otherwise uninjured. It looks like the worst of the blast was redirected towards the opposite side of the circle.”

“Good.” Harry was fond of Draco’s father, and would have hated to be the cause of the other Wizard’s death.

“Damage control?”

“Well, we managed to coax your Obscurus down before any uninitiated Wizards or Witches arrived. However, Lucius believes that several of the Death Eaters did manage to escape before the Wards dropped.”

Harry glanced around, comparing the count from before to the number of covered bodies.

“Yeah, that sounds right. There were over a dozen Death Eaters present, but I only count eight bodies.”

“Well, hopefully they won’t understand what happened.”

“Even if they did, so what?” Harry asked with a smirk. “It’s not like my condition is illegal.”

“True, pup. Just improbable.” Pads ruffled his hair. “Now come on, I know Aunt Andy is going to want to give you a full exam.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned, but followed his father’s instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to twelve chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies  
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-12 – Complete Set of Character Biographies  
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Siblings Queenie, Theseus, Queenie’s husband Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families  
> • Chapter 8 – Important Blacks of Newt/Percy/Tina’s generation and before  
> • Chapter 9 – Black Cousins Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus and some of their families  
> • Chapter 10 – Important non-family adult Allies  
> • Chapter 11 – Important non-family Students from one of the four schools  
> • Chapter 12 – Those whose actions have opposed the Alliance (including Dumbledore)


	13. Aftermath, or the Board Resets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a Mastermind’s assumptions are proven false, leaving him scrambling in his attempt to reclaim the control he once believed that he held.  
> POV Character – Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. British Wizard, Hogwarts Headmaster, Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamut, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, perpetual ‘Mastermind’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’ve reached the end of this part of the story. Voldemort’s plans have been foiled, and he’s back to wraith state. Meanwhile, Dumbledore has to deal with the latest upset to his plans.  
> For those who have been reading along as I posted, today’s a bit of a treat as I am posting early and with two chapters. I wanted to get this story done by the end of the month because I start a challenge on Rough Trade tomorrow (July 2018) and don’t want this to distract me from that.  
> It’s a ‘Little Black Dress’ challenge, meaning a crossover with The Sentinel (or at least the fanon version). One of my stories was inspired by my Newt/Percy from this series, but the challenge means that they’re going to be Sentinel/Guide. If you don’t mind reading rough drafts instead of polished work feel free to come visit and check it out at roughtrade.org  
> For those who are wondering about the future, I do have plans for another story in this series but it will be a while as all I have so far is just a base concept.

Sitting before his desk in the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore couldn’t help but frown. Nothing had gone according to his plan.

When he’d first noticed inconsistencies in Alastor’s behaviour after the other Wizard had started working at Hogwarts, Albus had dismissed it. After all, the old battle Wizard was known for his eccentricities. Perhaps retirement from the Auror corps had led to new quirks.

It was only when Harry Potter’s name emerged from the Goblet of Fire that Albus realized that there was something more going on. An unnamed Witch or Wizard had managed to suborn Moody. Still, the results were to Albus’ benefit. After all, the uproar had finally managed to lure Harry Potter out of hiding. Now Albus could finally figure out whether or not the Potter boy was indeed the prophecy child, and make plans accordingly.

During the year, Albus had faced both successes and setbacks. Potter was skilled, powerful… and well-connected, with his links to Graves and Scamander. Clearly, Albus wouldn’t be able to insinuate himself into the role of mentor as he had hoped. Then there was the Black debacle. That Wizard continued to be a thorn in Albus’ side. Not only was he confirmed officially as Potter’s Guardian, stealing Albus’ control of that position, but the younger Wizard had also stolen the loyalty of at least one of his more useful tools.

After the events of the previous year, Albus had assumed that Mister Lupin was under his control, but the blasted werewolf had shown his true colours at the Second Task of the Tournament. Clearly, the two Marauders had been in league since the beginning. He should have known.

Throughout it all, Albus had kept his eye on Moody, becoming more and more certain that the Wizard present at Hogwarts was an imposter. When Potter was portkeyed away at the end of the Third Task, while Albus outwardly expressed shock and concern, inside he was triumphant. Finally!

 

* * *

 

_“Headmaster.” The hissed whisper drew Albus’ attention from his place at the floor of the Quidditch Pitch, where the various representatives and dignitaries were gathered, arguing over what had just happened. Black had already left, tracking the boy, along with Lupin and… was that young Miss Tonks?_

_Meanwhile, Potter’s honorary family, including Percival Graves and Theseus Scamander, were embedded into the discussion, yelling at Bagman and the Minister. Crouch, of course, was absent. He’d been missing for the last couple of months, ever since his involvement in the Black mess had been revealed. Albus was sure that the other Wizard’s disappearance was connected to Moody… somehow._

_Tina and Newt Scamander, on the hand, were keeping to the periphery of events. Albus had caught sight of them monitoring a pocket watch of some kind, presumably linked to Black. At one point, Newt had flagged down his daughter Artemis, who had been supporting her Uncle, and sent her off on a mysterious errand._

_Now the couple looked tense as if waiting for something to happen._

_“Headmaster!” The voice came again. This time Albus spotted the caller._

_Discretely making his way to the shadows of the stands, Albus joined his Potions Professor and spy, Severus Snape. The darkly dressed Wizard was hovering near one of the ground floor entryways onto the Pitch, clearly reluctant to attract attention._

_“My dear boy, what is it?”_

_Keeping Albus’ body between himself and the Pitch grounds, Severus thrust his arm out. Shoving the sleeve of his robe up, he turned his right arm face-up, exposing his Dark Mark to Albus._

_Under Albus’ horrified, yet fascinated gaze, the Mark pulsed black. Severus had reported that it had been darkening for months, but this was the first sign of a summons. For all of his faults, Tom really was a clever Wizard, Albus mused._

_“How long?” he asked Severus._

_“Not more than a few minutes. I can feel the summons; he’s calling for us all to join him.”_

_“I see,” Albus mused. “Well, do you think that you could justify your absence from this summons?”_

_“I… believe so?” was the reply. “The Dark Lord knows that I am a spy in your ranks, I can claim to have been unable to leave without getting caught.”_

_“Excellent, then…”_

_Whatever Albus had been about to say was interrupted when Severus suddenly cried out and fell to his knees, clutching his arm._

_Under Albus’ fascinated gaze, the Dark Mark burned and bubbled, and then frosted over. The skin surrounding the Mark grew raw, and then blackened, as if frost burned, while the Mark itself faded. As the pain eased Severus continued panting, staring at the latest iteration of his punishment._

_“Headmaster,” he gasped. “The summons, it’s gone. And HIS voice, it’s disappeared.”_

_“Troubling,” Albus responded, absently. His mind was already rushing ahead, coming up with explanations for what Severus had experienced. “I shall have to investigate.”_

_Looking down at the fallen Wizard, he continued. “Now then, you had best treat that wound before it gets infected. Inform me if there are any further changes.”_

_With that, Albus lifted up the hem of his robe, turned, and headed back out onto the Pitch, hoping that someone else might have further news._

_Behind him, the dismissed Wizard withdrew as ordered, his glare of fury unnoticed by his ‘Master’._

* * *

 

Severus’ words had proved prophetic. It seemed that Tom had managed to temporarily resurrect himself via ritual. He had used the Potter boy as a part of the ritual. The other Wizard had then summoned his followers in preparation for a triumphant return. Unfortunately for Tom, the ritual resurrection had ultimately failed. When it did, it caused a backlash that took out a number of former Death Eaters. Several of those found dead at the scene were Wizards who had been declared innocent by the Ministry after Voldemort’s first defeat.

And then there was the Moody incident.

 

* * *

 

_"Dumbledore.”_

_Albus turned at Graves’ call._

_“Do you mind if we use your school’s infirmary? The DMLE has some questions for Harry, but we need to see to his injuries first.”_

_“Of course, Percy, my dear boy. I am certain that Poppy would be delighted to provide her services.”_

_“That is kind of you, Dumbledore, but Andromeda will be escorting the lad. She’s his assigned Healer while here in Britain.”_

_“Madame Tonks?” Albus asked surprised. “Why would…?”_

_Graves raised a single eyebrow, stopping Albus before he could begin. “Of course, Madame Tonks is an excellent Healer.”_

And Black’s favourite cousin.

_Albus left the thought unsaid. “Does the boy’s condition merit any special treatment?”_

_While Graves snorted, he seemed willing to answer Albus’ question. “Not that it is any of your concern, but my grandson’s injuries are fairly minor. He just has a bit of Magical exhaustion, along with cuts and scrapes from both the Maze and his later misadventure. Whatever happened, it seems that Pads made it in time to prevent anything worse from happening.”_

_“Pads?”_

_“My son, Patrick. Harry’s father.”_

_Ah, yes, Black had taken on a new identity upon his escape from Azkaban. It seemed that the Americans were going to keep the Wizard’s new name despite public revelations and exoneration of his original identity._

_“That is excellent news. And, of course, once he is up for it, the Tournament Committee does still have to – officially – award young Mister Potter with the title of Champion. After all, we would not want to deprive the public of the opportunity to celebrate, despite recent unpleasantness.”_

_“Unpleasantness,” was Graves’ incredulous response. He clearly wanted to say something else, but he restrained himself. “I… suppose that is one word for it.”_

_“Excellent. Then, I will inform the rest of the Committee. While Mister Crouch is still absent, I believe that Minister Fudge has stepped up in his place.”_

_Turning, Albus caught sight of Moody spying on their conversation._

Perhaps I can kill two birds with one stone, _he thought, as he pretended not to notice the lurking Wizard._ Moody, or rather the imposter pretending to be him, might be able to get the details out of the boy.

Besides, _he continued thinking as he walked down the hall,_ if anything I can act as a rescuer, and thus earn the child’s trust and gratitude.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately for Albus, his scheme failed in its entirety. It turned out that Moody’s behaviour during the Task had roused the suspicions of Scamander, the Wizard’s old mentor, and Goldstein, who had experience with disguised impersonators. Graves had also spotted the eavesdropping impostor during his conversation with Albus. So, with Black and Potter’s cooperation, they had laid a trap. At one point, they left young Harry alone in the infirmary, apparently unprotected.

The Moody impersonator had crept inside and attempted to interrogate the Potter child. Before he could get anywhere, he was hit from behind with a powerful _incarcerous_. Albus was limited to being a mere spectator as Goldstein cast _hominem revelio_ on the now raving Wizard, revealing his true identity. Bartemius Crouch, Junior!

The psychotic former Death Eater was quickly hauled off to the DMLE headquarters, where he was interrogated before being sent back to Azkaban. Albus’ sources there said that according to the prisoner his father had been under Crouch Junior’s control since the past October, and had been killed back in April when he ceased to be useful.

With the DMLE already on hand to investigate young Harry’s encounter – according to him a failed attempt to use Necromancy to resurrect the deceased Voldemort – Crouch’s chambers at Hogwarts were searched after the arrest. Inside, the real Alastor Moody was discovered, imprisoned in his own trunk.

At his first sight of Alastor’s debilitated form, Albus had felt a pang of guilt. After all, he’d had his suspicions about the imposter for months and done nothing.

 _Still,_ he reminded himself, _it had been for the greater good. Harry Potter was indeed the Prophecy Child, the one destined to defeat poor, misguided Tom. That evening’s incident was proof._

If he explained the situation, Albus was sure that Alastor would understand. Not that he had any intention of doing so.

 _No,_ Albus decided. _Alastor was better off not knowing._

 

* * *

 

All of that fuss had led to the current situation. With the Tournament complete Potter and Black, along with the rest of the International delegation, were preparing to return to their home countries. And, after all of that effort, little real progress had been made in advancing the game. Tom was still lurking, but had returned to his previous incorporeal state. Meanwhile, the Prophecy Child was revealed, but was out of HIS control.

Albus knew that there was more to the story of young Harry’s encounter with Tom than either the public announcement or the DMLE report claimed. There was something… strange about the Potter boy. It seemed that he had some investigation to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: We are now up to twelve chapters in the ‘Appendices’.  
> Chapter 1 – Genealogies  
> Chapter 2 – Locations  
> Chapter 3 – Timeline  
> Chapters 4-12 – Complete Set of Character Biographies  
> • Chapter 4 – Newt, Percy, and Tina  
> • Chapter 5 – Daughters Artemis, Athena, and Eris, and their families  
> • Chapter 6 – Siblings Queenie, Theseus, Queenie’s husband Jacob, and Theseus’ wife Hippolyta  
> • Chapter 7 – Cousins Isaac, Judah, and Demetrius and their families  
> • Chapter 8 – Important Blacks of Newt/Percy/Tina’s generation and before  
> • Chapter 9 – Black Cousins Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus and some of their families  
> • Chapter 10 – Important non-family adult Allies  
> • Chapter 11 – Important non-family Students from one of the four schools  
> • Chapter 12 – Those whose actions have opposed the Alliance (including Dumbledore)

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, hoo, I finally reached the point where I'm ready to start posting the latest story in this series! I've still got some editing to do on the later chapters, but the first draft is at least written for all chapters. I'll probably update this about once a week or so until we reach the end.
> 
> Note: I'll also be adding a final ‘story’ in this series where I’ll be storing various references that I have built to help with the world building for Obscure Guardian. Think of them as ‘Appendices’ or a bibliography of sorts. I’ll add reminder notes about new reference pages in the chapter notes for this story as I add them to the series. The first one of these chapters should go up shortly, and is a set of genealogies for the main families in the story.


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